The Eyes Have It
by Dyna Dee
Summary: Yaoi, or non-yaoi, your choice in the last chapter. A tragic accident takes away, not only a boy's home and family, but also his memory. But revelations about himself and a re-occurring dream causes him to question who is really is.
1. Default Chapter

Disclaimer: I do not own GW, nor do I make any profit from these just-for-fun stories. 

The Eyes Have It

By: Dyna Dee

warnings: light language, pick your ending, last chapter yaoi or non-yaoi

With a loud, startled gasp, I sit up in my pillow fighting to catch my breath as I break away from my dream. My trembling hands cover my eyes as I try to focus my thoughts and calm my nerves. The same dream has awakened me every night for the past two weeks. Eyes. Wide, ocean-blue eyes. Beautiful eyes. Pleading eyes. Sympathetic eyes. Knowing eyes. Sad eyes. Happy eyes. Eyes that show fear, sympathy, and kindness. All these intense emotional expressions come from the same pair of extraordinary eyes. Tonight though, they had been imploring. They desperately wanted or needed something from me.

I can only wonder who those eyes belong to, if indeed they are more than just a figment of my imagination. The vision of them leaves me with a vague feeling of familiarity as they visit me each night in my dreams. Could it be a memory of a parent's eyes, a neighbor's, or a friend's? I don't know, but I feel strongly that they belong to someone of significance in my life. I wish I could remember who it is,........or was. 

My thoughts go back, again, to the time shortly after I regained consciousness in a sterile hospital room. I was told that there had been an accident, and that I had been in a coma for quite some time. It was quickly evident to myself and to the medical staff that I had no memory. I couldn't remember anything about myself. I thought it curious at the time, but oddly, the doctors didn't seem too surprised by my memory loss. They just nodded their heads and jotted down notes on their clipboards, looking very efficient in their task of being....doctorish.

It's a somewhat odd and chilling first memory I have of laying in my hospital bed ringed by doctors, nurses, and psychiatrists while being told that my parents had been killed when a faulty gas line in our home exploded. I'd been injured, but was thrown free of the flames that engulfed and devoured my home, my family, and any reminder of the life I had led. 

A man in his early fifties with a thin face and body frame, greying black hair, and dark rimmed glasses that fit on a narrow nose told me this news in a clinical, efficient and unemotional manner, and added that, in any event that I didn't understand him, that I was an orphan. Because no living relatives had been found, I had been made a ward of the Public Children's Protection Agency.

Frankly, I didn't know what to feel or how to react to the news I'd just received. My mind told me that I had suffered the worst thing that could happen to a kid, and that I should be mourning and filled with grief. But I couldn't remember the home they spoke of nor my parents. I felt awkward, numb, and strangely embarrassed. From the expressions on the faces around me, I could tell that the adults were waiting for some sort of reaction from me. So, I did the only thing I could think of, I covered my head with my pillow, shutting all of them out.

Do the eyes belong to my mother?

The feeling of numbness followed me as I was discharged a week later from the hospital with a clean bill of health. My only complaints were slight headaches and some lingering weakness in my limbs. As we drove away, I discovered I'd been treated in a military hospital, because the sign above the front entrance boldly declared it as Romafeller Veteran's Hospital. Did they say my father had been in the military? 

After several hours riding in near silence in a car with a total stranger, I found myself standing in front of the doors to a private Catholic school in Lyon, France. Ms. Preston, my newly assigned psychiatrist/social worker who had driven me to Lyon, explained to me that my parents had left a will requesting this particular school and that a sizeable life insurance policy, as well as a generous insurance settlement, were set up to fund the cost of my education all the way through college.

Ms. Preston seems nice enough, maybe even a bit pretty for a lady in her late thirties, but there is just something about her that I don't trust. No reason for it, just a feeling I have. She stands at about 5'6", taller than I am, and she probably has a decent figure, but it's hard to tell as she always hides it under a dark suit jacket and loose dress pants. Her eyes were small and brown as is her straight chin-length hair. Her perfectly painted lips are a bit thin for my taste, but she does have a pleasant voice, which is kinda wasted on a psychiatrist, as they're suppose to do the listening. She's somewhat kind, if not a tad condescending to me. But the really odd thing about her is that, during our first few weeks alone in my sessions with her, I could feel fear radiating off of her. A fear of me. I wonder what a shrimpy, fifteen-year-old kid could have done to cause an adult to be frightened. 

After spending a few moments contemplating and memorizing my last dream, I roll out of my bed and glance at the clock. It's five thirty a.m. With a deep sigh I move towards the bathroom attached to my room, grateful that I got at least a couple of hours of sleep last night. My insomnia is becoming a problem, and I don't know if I'm going to be able to hide much it longer. It's starting to show on my face, and in my sluggish performance in class. Once again, I'm glad I have my own room so that I'm not bothering anyone with my problems, and neither is there someone present to report my sleeplessness or nightmares.

I hadn't realized when I first enrolled here that I had been given special sleeping quarters until a week later, when I visited a potential friend's room. Most of the boys here share their room with three other boys and use a common bathroom shared with six other rooms. I figured the insurance settlement for the accident that claimed my parent's lives must have paid the extra fee for my more private quarters. I'm glad. I like my privacy and my own shower, and besides, my nocturnal sleeplessness would drive other people nuts. 

Turning on the bathroom light, I look at my reflection in the mirror and study the facial features reflected in it. I can see the dark shadows under my eyes. I think they're becoming permanent. Ms. Preston noticed and wanted to know why I'm not sleeping well, and I told her I was staying up late studying. I wasn't about to tell her the real reason, my dreams of the eyes. The dreams mean something important, I just know it. I can't risk having the memory of them taken away. Every time I begin to have a memory, I'm suppose to tell Ms. Preston so she can help me gain back my past. Each time I tell her what I think I remember, she puts me under hypnosis under the pretense that the session will open my mind up and help the memories come back. But how can you trust someone who doesn't admit to giving me a shot of some unknown drug after I'm under her hypnotic influence. (I can tell by the hole, bruise, and soreness in my arm that I always discover later.) She consistently professes to want to help me remember, but each time I have a session like that, I have no recollection of what I had remembered. I wouldn't ever have known I'd even had a return of memory if I didn't keep an informal journal in my school notebook, mixed in with my notes from my classes to keep it secret. Funny, but there's something in me that urges me to be covert about my personal life, it's somehow important for me to hide my feelings and what I'm thinking. Too bad I can't tell Ms. Preston about that, she'd have a field day trying to figure it out. Anyway, because of my journal notes, I've seem a pattern emerge of my confessions of new memory, the hypnotizing sessions, and the lack of memory afterwards. I'll be damned if I'll let her take any more precious memories from me. Why is she doing this? I can't seem to come up with an answer.

Looking into the mirror over the sink, I know there is something just not right about the way I look. My hair had been cut short in the hospital for treatment of my head wound, or so they told me. Funny, but I never detected any scaring from the major head wounds they say I had that caused this loss of memory. Thankfully, my hair grows fast, and at this point it is several inches longer, even to the point of being considered long and shaggy. It's a rich medium brown, a chestnut color, one of the teachers said in their description of it. I stare at my face, almost heart shaped and my eyes are unusually large. They're a most unique color, a blue/violet at times. 

Are they my mother's or father's eyes? 

Guess I'll never know. It's an empty feeling not knowing what your parents looked like. I've asked Ms. Preston if she could find a photo of them, but she said the house had been completely destroyed. I shrug and smile at my reflection. No matter whose face I've inherited, it's a pleasant, even attractive face, one I can live with.

I've been in this school for three months now. I feel more comfortable with my room at this point, though I feel restless, like I should be moving on. I've made a few acquaintances, though I'm basically still a loner, a stranger to most of the guys here at school as well as a stranger to myself. With a deep sigh, I turn on the shower and hold my hand under the cold stream and wait for the water to get warm. I think I'm becoming a little less numb about my life now as I begin to discover interesting things about myself. Of course, I speak French, but I now believe it's not my first language. I dream in English. I happened by some American tourists on the street one day and heard them talking. To my dumbfounded surprise I found that I understood them perfectly. I cautiously approached them and asked where they were from....in English! It came out of me so naturally, so easily. I now believe it's my primary language, and have kept this fact from Ms. Preston. Any scrap of knowledge I learn about myself is like a treasure to be hoarded and enjoyed.

Since I began to learn more things about myself, I've become more curious about who I am and what I know. I've learned from listening to the many tourists that come to Lyon that I understand and to some degree speak Japanese, Chinese, Spanish, English and strangely enough, Arabic. (Though I understand more than I can speak .) 

I undress and get into the shower. Nothing like a nice hot shower. As always, I automatically reach behind me for......something that isn't there. What could it be? An intense feeling of longing always follows the movement. I miss something terribly. This has happened consistently during the last month when I shower, and even when I walk, I miss something on my back.

I shampoo a thick lather into my hair and close my eyes. Instantly I see the blue eyes, the color of the Mediterranean Sea, watching me, beckoning me. A portion of a fine delicate nose is now visible in my waking vision. If I could see something more, his hair or his mouth....Wait! Why do I think it's a guy? Who is he? He must be important to me or else why would I keep seeing him?

Finishing, I turn off the water, grab my towel, and step out of the shower. Today is Wednesday, the day I see Ms. Preston. I have a standing three-thirty appointment every Wednesday afternoon. I call it the grilling session. I sit, and she grills me for a half hour on what I remember. She becomes suspicious when I say I haven't had any new memories, so I discovered that I need to give her something to make her think I'm being honest about what I remember.

I need to think of something new for today. I won't be telling her about the eyes. I instinctively know they are important to my past, so I need to cling to and protect this clue that may be the key to my memory. She seemed interested when I said I thought it strange that I have an obsession with food. I could tell her I dreamed I was hungry, deprived of food. I do vaguely recall such a dream, and it sounded like a reasonable explanation as to why food seems to important to me. I never miss a meal, I eat fast, and keep a small stash of non-perishable food in my room. I smile smugly as I dress in my school uniform for the day. Fear of food deprivation, that sounds like a plausible phobia to me, something she could sink her teeth into, pun intended. I just hoped she'll believe it.

After I finish dressing and grooming, I sit on my bed with my books and wait. It's six-forty a.m., twenty minutes until the cafeteria opens. I'll go through the motions again today, going to classes that seem too easy while I try to learn more about myself, and always, I study everyone's eyes, looking for the blue ones that need me, that beckon to me.

In my third period class, Mrs. Delaire, my art teacher, asks if anyone would be interested in going to Paris to the Louvre the following weekend. I raise my hand. I don't know if I've ever been to Paris, but maybe, just maybe, something there will trigger my memory.

*TBC ******

  
  



	2. part 2

The Eyes Have It

Dyna Dee

Part 2

Warnings: AU, angst

Sitting in the train compartment with six other students and Mrs. Delaire, I stare out the window trying to hide my excitement as I appear to gaze at the green lush fields and farms of the French countryside that steadily passes by as the train rushes towards Paris. The other boys in the compartment are talking excitedly and eating some snacks they've brought. I ignore them, finding their conversation trivial, but suddenly I sense someone's eyes resting on me. I turn my head to see my teacher watching me with worried eyes laced with a touch of pity in them.

"Are you alright Michel?" she asks concerned.

I nod and manage a small, wistful smile. "I just can't remember if I've ever been to Paris or the Louvre before." I reply in my perfect French, though now that I've learned about my gift for languages, I notice that I do have a bit of a foreign accent in some of my pronunciations.

The compartment is suddenly still, a reaction to what I've just said. Everyone at school seems to know of my background, though the information certainly hasn't come from me. I've heard the hushed voices and whispers as I walked down the school's corridors. Words like, orphan, explosion, and amnesia, are the ones that have carried past their lips to my ears. Most of the boys at school seem afraid to approach me, like my tragic tale is somehow contagious. I'd have to say that, after three months at the school, most of my friends are the teachers. Of course, they know my background, and several have reached out to me offering to be a mentor and friend. Mrs. Delaire is one of them. At first, I accepted any warmth I could get as the feeling of isolation and loneliness at times has been hard to bear. Then I realized that Ms. Preston, my shrink, was getting information about me from a source other than myself, someone at school. I realized that one or more of my teacher "friends" was reporting to her on a regular basis. Not knowing who it was, I distanced myself from all of them.

I absently tugged at my jacket sleeves. I wish we didn't have to wear our school uniforms into Paris, and on a Saturday at that. Mrs. Delaire said it was necessary as the school was paying for our excursion, and that we would be easier to locate in a crowd. I was disappointed. I have a new pair of black, low riding jeans and a black sweater that I'd wanted to wear. Strange, now that I think about it, my whole closet is filled with uniforms and black clothing. The only clothing I wear with color is my silk boxers and tee shirts. What was my obsession with the color black all about? Why silk boxers? Hey, good questions. I can ask those the next time I visit Ms. Preston, let her dig into my psyche for answers to those questions.

"If you remember anything, let me know." Mrs Delaire said, after an awkward moment. "Maybe I can help." She puts her arm around my shoulders and gives me a gentle hug. I give her one back. I hope she isn't Ms. Preston's informant, I like her. She's in her late 40's, married with no kids. She's what people might refer to as "pleasantly plump", but I don't care, she has warm green eyes and a gentle smile that's comforting, as are the slight traces of grey that filter through her brown hair. When she smiles, which she does often, one dimple is revealed in her left cheek as well as small crows feet at the edge of her eyes, telling those who care to notice that a lifetime of smiles has been issued from her face. To me, she personifies what a mother should be. I hope my mother was like her.

The Louvre is so big and impressive. It's filled with such beautiful works of art, each exquisite piece capturing a brief moment in history. Being Saturday, the museum is quite full and, as enthralled as I am by the many works of art on display, I spend most of the time searching the faces of the thousands of art patrons, looking for the blue eyes that haunt my nights and now my days. I study the faces of people passing me by, and those thoughtfully contemplating the works of art hung high on the walls. I study the faces of people in line and even those in the restroom. I know I must look odd, staring at everyone, but it's become a compulsion. Every time I close my eyes, I see the other's, pleading with me, urging me on in my quest for understanding, and for him.

I almost bypass a group of girls as they stand in a small cluster, all dressed in a similar uniform: a long dark skirt, white blouse with pleated cuffs and collar, and a strange lacy scarf at the neck. Pretty fancy uniforms for a girl's school. Must be some upper-crust school. Just as I'm about to look away, I see one of the girls do a double take as she glances over at me. I turn my head back to study her. She looks startled, but no, the blue eyes aren't right. I dismiss her face and begin to search for another. 

Our group has advanced to the next painting by a Dutch impressionist, and I make note of it enough to please Mrs. Delaire, then turn my head to begin my search again, one ear listening to the lecture she's giving on the artist and background story of the painting. 

I jump slightly, startled to find the girl from the group I'd studied moments before standing next to me. Her eyes are wide in disbelief as she studies my face. I study hers also. She seems familiar, and I feel the hair on the back of my neck rise.

"Duo?" she whispers so only I can hear her. She's speaking to me in English.

"Michel." I answer back in English just as quietly. "Do I know you?" I feel a flutter of hope in my chest. This could be an old friend, a classmate, or a neighbor that could tell me more about myself.

Her eyes widen. "Oh my, it is you." she whispers excitedly and then looks over my shoulder at the group I'm with. She immediately seems to compose herself, becoming calm. "We've been worried sick about you." She says quietly as her hand reaches out to touch my arm, but in seeing my confused expression, she frowned and removed it. "Where do you go to school?" She asks politely and, this time, speaking in French.

"Saint Mary's of Faith, In Lyon." I reply, same language.

"What's your current name?" She's smiling, but seems anxious for some reason.

"Michel DuFrane." I answer, but I'm thinking, 'What the hell does she mean by current name?'

She blinks several times as if looking for confirmation of something.

"Do...do you know me?" I ask hesitantly and hold my breath. I silently pray she does.

The blond hair, blue eyed girl looks behind me again at the group of boys and Mrs. Delaire before she answers. She nods and whispers. "We've gone to school together, well, only for a short time." she amended, and then leaned closer to whisper, "I know your friends."

"Friends?" I ask quietly excited. "Does one have large, blue-green eyes?"

She smiles and nods

"Michel!" Mrs. Delaire's voice calls out sharply and I jump slightly at it.

"Yes, Mam." I turn to meet her disapproving look, but as I hold her gaze, it softens. "I would appreciate your attention, please." she says, her voice less reproving.

"I'm sorry." I reply, looking and feeling properly contrite.

As soon as the lecture proceeds and I feel I can safely look away, I turn my head back to the girl. My heart begins to beat faster and I have a lump in my throat. She's gone. I look around feeling frantic. She's my first and only true link to my past, to my memories, and to blue eyes. She's gone. My heart and hopes plummet.

From the reflection on the train window, I can see by her face that Mrs. Delaire is upset with my silence. I've withdrawn into myself going over and over the conversation with that girl. What did she call me? It sounded like Duo. An unexplainable chill goes through me. Friends, I have friends. But most importantly, a blue-eyed friend. I rest my head against the cool window of the train as we pass the rural farms and close my eyes. In my moment of solitude, the blue eyes greet me. I can now see blonde eyebrows above the large blue eyes, a slim nose and now, two lips. They are moving. I keep the image clear in my mind, trying to understand what he's saying. It seems to be either three words or three syllables.

I'm aware that there is a shifting in the seating arrangements and can faintly smell my teacher's perfume and, because of it, I'm not surprised when she speaks to me and her soft voice is very close. "What's the matter, Michel? Did you remember something? Did that girl you were talking to upset you somehow?" She asks concerned.

'Damn, she noticed that.' I shake my head. "I was hoping I would remember or recognize something. That girl looked familiar, but she said she didn't know me." Okay, only part of what I said was a lie. I can live with that.

My art teacher's arm goes around the back of my shoulders, and she gives me an affectionate squeeze. "I'm sorry," she says softly, her voice carrying her sincerity. "I can only imagine what you're going through."

I nod because, when you think about it, what do you say to a statement like that? "I know you want to remember, and someday, I'm sure you will." she whispers with conviction just as I stiffened at the word she had just uttered. "Remember." I repeat the word silently to myself, and then once again as I put my fingers to my mouth, feeling the word as I mouth it. Sweet Mary, he's saying "Remember". I lean into Mrs. Delaire's arm and rest my head on her soft shoulder and close my eyes. I'll take her offered comfort while I relish my new discovery and try to figure out the puzzle behind it.

"I know who that girl was." I open my eyes to look at Marcos, my classmate from Spain who is sitting directly across from me. "That girl with the long golden hair?" He asks for confirmation.

I nod and wait for his explanation.

"She looked familiar because her picture has been in all the Euro magazines and newspapers. She's the newly found princess of the Sanq Kingdom, Relena Peacecraft.

I feel the arm around my shoulders tighten and I sigh deeply and close my eyes, hoping to hide my excitement. "I remember seeing her face on a magazine cover." I say softly, trying to fake embarrassment. "No wonder she looked familiar and didn't know me."

I settle back into Mrs. Delaire's side, my eyes remaining closed. Pretending to be asleep, I concentrate on my vision of Blue Eyes. I can see almost all of the pale, almost angelic face and, now that I've figured out the word he's saying, I can almost hear a gentle voice pleading with me to remember. My mind is filled with curiosity, not only for what it is I should remember, but how on the earth does a princess know me? Who am I?

TBC


	3. part 3

The Eyes Have It

Part 3

Dyna Dee

It's been a little over two weeks since that day in Paris and, though I constantly think about the puzzling conversation I had with that girl in the Louvre, my most irritating problem is that Ms. Preston is after me to cut my hair again as it's grown, a lot. For some reason she wants me to cut it really short, like it was at the hospital. I don't get it, there's no regulation haircut at the school. I'm going to stall as long as I can, just to be stubborn. After all, no one said I have to comply to her personal preferences for fashion.

She bought the "I must have been deprived of food at some point in my life" idea, as our last two sessions have dealt with that issue. She wanted to put me under, but I talked myself out of it, barely. This week I told her I was becoming obsessed with Medieval paintings and armor, the things I'd seen in the museum. I did really like a totally black armored suit I'd seen displayed in the Louvre. Truthfully, it reminds me of something.... I can't put my finger on it, but whatever it is I'm trying to remember, it feels important.

It's Tuesday, and classes are over for the day. I sigh as I approach my door, I've managed to make it through yet another day acting like the willing, perfectly obedient student. I think I'll change into my street clothes and take in a movie. Fishing into my pocket, I pull out my key-card to unlock my door, and with a click signifying the release of the lock, I turn the nob and enter the dark room. Tossing my backpack down on the floor, I reach for the light switch as the door shuts behind me. Before I reach it, I'm grabbed from behind. A feeling of terror envelopes me. Someone's been waiting for me, behind my bedroom door. A hand clamps firmly over my mouth and I struggle to break free. The vice-like grip is holding me tightly around my chest, the other hand has a hold of my head and mouth, holding me firmly against someone's solid chest. As much as I struggle, I can't seem to dislodge either hand and panic fills me.

"Shhh" the quiet command to be still sounds in my ear. "We're friends."

As if the words were magic, I immediately cease to struggle. How I've longed for those words, they are like a balm to my soul.

"If I let you go, do you promise not to cry out?" the person behind me whispers in my ear.

Now that I can hear his voice, which is deeper than mine, I realize that it has an odd effect on me, like hot chocolate warming me from the inside out on a cold day. I don't recognize the voice, but somehow, almost instinctively, I trust it, and my fear starts to slip away. I nod my head in reply. The hands are instantly gone, and the light switch clicks on.

I cautiously turn around to see that there are two of them. Two boys that look to be my age and are of similar size and build. I can feel an invisible aura of power that emanates from both of them. One is Japanese with shaggy brown hair, and the other Chinese with his hair pulled tightly back into a ponytail. From their eyes and stances, I can sense an intensity in them that I've not seen in the boys I go to school with, and that these two radiate a strong sense of purpose and determination. I study them both, and I'm sure that as I blink, that I resemble an owl as I can feel my eyes are wide with curiosity and maybe a little apprehension. "Do you know me?" I ask nervously as I see the both of them studying me with the same level of scrutiny as my study of them.

"Duo." The Japanese boy steps towards me and unexpectedly embraces me in a quick tight hug. "We thought we lost you." he whispers in my ear, a hint of emotion in his voice.

I stand frozen, not sure what to make out of all of this. Over his shoulder I see the Chinese boy watching me, I think for a reaction. I don't recognize his black eyes, nor the other's dark blue. There is an odd look on his face, like he is holding back some emotion. 

The boy holding me steps back, releasing me. He's frowning as he searches my face. "You really don't remember me....us, do you?" he asks.

"No." I answer and see a slight hint of disappointment flicker over his almost expressionless features. "Can you tell me what you know about me? Who am I? Where I come from?" I can hear the pleading sound in my voice, a touch of desperation in it. At this very moment, I don't care. Damn my pride, these two could possibly have the answers to all my questions about myself.

The Japanese boy nods thoughtfully. "This is going to take some time," he begins. "and when we're through, you'll need to come to a decision. Do you need to be any where? Will you be missed if we stay here and talk?"

"No," I shake my head. "Just dinner in the cafeteria, but I doubt I'll be missed. I don't have any close friends." I told them honestly.

There is a surprised look on both boys' faces at my last statement. Then, the Japanese boy takes hold of my arm as if to lead me somewhere.

"Wait!" I call out and refuse to move, my feet are firmly planted to the spot on which I'm standing. The boy holding my arm turns to look at me with a slight trace of annoyance on his face. "What are your names?" I ask, with the hope that I'll recall the two in front of me if I have names to go with their faces.

"Heero.....Heero Yuy." The Japanese boys answers.

"Wufei." the Chinese boy says even as he makes a bow to me. The movement seems so formal. I study him for a moment as he slowly straightens up.

"Does that hurt?" I ask, just out of curiosity.

"What?" He looks surprised.

"Your hair." I reply. "It's pulled back so tightly, I just wondered if it hurts."

A small smile forms at the corner of his mouth and eyes. "No, it doesn't." he replies and I wonder what I said that was so amusing.

I allow.....Heero, such a different name, to lead me to my bed where we both sit on the edge. Wufei takes the chair from my desk and brings it closer to us and sits stiffly on it. I ease myself back onto the bed, kicking off my shoes so that I can bring my legs up and cross them Indian style, and turn slightly so I can see both of my "friends". There passes a few awkward moments of silence . I'm anxious to know about my past, but suddenly feel strangely fearful of the unknown.

Heero takes in a deep breath, maybe he is having a difficult time knowing where to start, or maybe what he has to say is difficult.

"You are Duo Maxwell." he states. "An orphan from the L-2 Colony. A Gundam pilot, one of five."

Well, I certainly, never in a million years, expected him to say that. I know of the Gundams from the newspapers and television. They're mobile suits made of gundanium sent from the colonies to oppose first, the Alliance, and now OZ, and they have wreaked havoc with the military installations on Earth. 'I'm the pilot of one of those?' I ask myself, disbelieving. I think I finally manage to blink, which seems to be the cue for Heero to continue.

"You were captured with another pilot, Quatre, and you were both put through an experimental procedure to reprogram you to civilian life. Through hacking into OZ and following account trails to the Winner Corporation files, I found that Quatre's father paid OZ an obscene amount of money to fund this program in order to reprogram his son to be the dutiful heir he's always wanted. Trowa, that's another pilot, he's following a lead on Quatre's whereabouts."

Heero pauses a moment and studies me. I think he's letting the information he's given me sink in and I can see a glint of hope flicker in his eyes that I'll remember something.

"Who has the blue/green eyes?" I ask.

He smiles at me. "Quatre. Do you remember him?"

I notice the other boy, Wufei, leaning forward, waiting for my answer.

"I see his face when I close my eyes. He's pleading with me to remember."

"That's good, Duo." Heero's words are like an encouraging pat on the back, and though he's reserved, I can tell there's an underlying emotion of excitement in him. "What else do you remember?"

I'd like to continue getting that verbal pat on the back, for some reason it's important to me to please the boy in front of me. "I...." I shrug and sigh. "Not much." I answer. "But, I'm curious. Why do I like the color black in my clothing, or eat so fast and hoard food? What am I missing back here." I reach behind me to touch the nape of my neck.

There is a wistful look in his eyes as he answers me. "Black is your favorite color, it's the predominate color of your Gundam, Deathscythe. You hoard food because you grew up on the streets of L-2 and you were always hungry." He paused as he looks at my hair. A sad look suddenly sweeps across his facial features. "Your hair," he says quietly. "you're missing your long braid?"

"How long?" I ask surprised, but now it makes sense.

He stands up from the edge of the bed and indicates the area just below his waist. "Your braid ended about here." he says softly, and his head turns to see my reaction.

I close my eyes and reach to the back of my neck. In my mind, I pull the long thick plait of hair forward and clasp it between my two hands. "I remember it." I whisper, emotion surprisingly in my voice and my head starts to ache. I think I've subconsciously missed it before, but now that I know exactly what I've been missing, there's a deep grief inside me at its loss.

My eyes open as I feel a firm grip on my shoulder that seems to transfer some strength to me from the boy named Heero. "It's alright, Duo. It will take time, but it'll grow back." I see empathy in his face, and maybe a touch of sorrow. He obviously knew that the braid was important to me. I wanted to know why it was important, but I'm not sure I can handle the emotions the topic seems to well up in me. These guys might know me, but I don't know them, and I'm not comfortable showing my emotions to strangers.

"Duo, what kind of name is that?" I change the subject. "Am I'm an American?" I feel some of the emotions calming within me at the change of topic.

Heero sits down on the bed again and begins to tell me of my life on L-2, of a boy who had been my protector on the streets. His name was Solo, and being his little side-kick, I was named Duo, because we were always together. I sensed there was more to the story, but Wufei interrupted.

"How did you know you were an American?" he asked quietly.

I turn my head to address his question, and still mentally wonder if pulling your hair back that tightly doesn't hurt. "Because I speak English like the American tourists, and I dream in that language."

"You're right." Heero smiles at me again and I realize he's speaking to me in English. "Do you remember any other language?" he asks.

I tell him what I've discovered about myself, about the different languages I didn't realized I knew until I'd heard them on the streets. Heero's eyes sparkled as he turned to exchange a warm smile and a look of hope with the other boy. Wufei, I notice, returned the expression.

We talked through the evening, taking turns at asking and answering questions, changing frequently from one language to another. I tell them of my life now, of my routine, and the visits to the psychiatrist every Wednesday along with my suspicions about Dr. Preston. During the course of our discussion, I realize that a feeling of familiarity is growing within me. I don't remember these two, but I feel an affinity for them, like I fit with them. It's a feeling I haven't had since I woke up in the hospital.

The dorms had long been quiet and I rubbed my eyes and looked at the clock, it's after two a.m. 

"Duo." Wufei called my waning attention to him as I yawn deeply. He has asked only a few poignant questions during the evening, leaving most of it to Heero. "You need to come to a decision now that you know of your past." he says as his eyes scanned my room. "You have a peaceful, safe life here with the promise of an education and a real future." he remarked calmly, his ebony eyes return to me, intensely serious. "The life we lead as Gundam pilots has no such guarantee. We need you to fight with us, but we'll not force you." His gaze turns to Heero, silently asking for him to continue.

Heero nods and turns to me, there's a fierce intensity about him. "You must make the decision if you wish to stay here, probably being monitored by OZ to keep you docile and impotent in the war, or you can choose to come with us and back to piloting your Gundam. We'll help retrain you if your memory doesn't come back." he assures me. "Hopefully, you'll remember how to pilot, just as you remembered the languages you know. We can always hope that with familiarity your memory will return completely."

Reaching out, Heero placed his right hand on my left shoulder, as if lending support or comfort. I look up at him feeling worried about what he seems to be preparing me for.

"There's pain in your memories, Duo." He speaks softly. "It would be kinder if we left you in this state of ignorance, giving you back your innocence." He paused for just a moment, his eyes searching mine before he continued. "But in good conscience, I need to let you make the choice. You and I are....friends, partners. I would have you do the same for me if our positions were reversed."

I blink nervously, trying to take in all that this boy, this stranger, has been saying to me. What had he said, that we are "friends", "partners"? I could feel a link between us. There is power in this boy warrior and I feel myself instinctively drawn to it, to him. At this moment, after learning about my past from him, and his giving me the option to choose, I feel that I should follow him, wherever he will lead me. I mentally shake my head in amazement. How could a single person have such an affect on others. Or is it just me? But would following him be worth the pain and hard life they both alluded to? With my thoughts in turmoil, I raise my head and look pointedly at him. "What would you do, Heero?" I ask.

Seeing weariness in his eyes, Heero slowly takes a deep breath and closes them. He pauses before he speaks again. "I can't answer that fairly." He replies. "I was raised for war, to achieve the goal of peace through conquering my enemies, to follow orders." He raises his eyelids to look at me, his gaze is softer. "You weren't raised like that, though you have been a fierce fighter. I'm truthfully surprised that OZ didn't just kill you rather than take the risk that we could reclaim you. This is a choice that you will have to make. Just follow your heart and your head." he advised.

Having said that, Heero stops speaking and moving, and both he and Wufei wait patiently for me to come to a decision, most likely the biggest decision of my life. Despite this, I yawn and rub at my tired eyes. "Can I think about it for a while?" I ask and watch as the two exchange a communicating glance. 

Heero nods. "We'll give you until dawn." He states. "If you decide to stay, we'll leave you to your new life. But if you choose to go with us, we'll leave after your appointment tomorrow afternoon so that you won't be missed for awhile, giving us a chance to leave France."

I nod my head, and we quickly decide on sleeping arrangements. Heero states that he will share my twin bed with me, and Wufei will use the spare blanket and pillow to sleep on the rug next to the bed. I sense the Japanese boy is use to giving orders and expecting them to be followed.

I agree, but only if I can have the outside edge of my bed. I don't want to feel trapped against the wall with Heero on the outside. For some reason the feeling of being cornered frightens me. 

We settle into our respective places and soon I feel sleep overpowering me. 

I awake suddenly and stiffen. It don't feel like I've been asleep long, but I do feel the arm that had come around me. Heero's pulling me up against him. My back to his chest. His arms hold me tightly, though not painfully so. I can feel his warm breath softly blowing against my neck, coming in slow, rhythmic patterns, telling me he's asleep. I realize there's no way I can free myself and not wake him, so I decide to let it go and try to go back to sleep. 'Did we always sleep like this?' I ask myself, confused by the actions of the other boy. 'What exactly is mine and Heero's relationship?' I wonder. I wasn't upset or repulsed by the close contact. Frankly, it was .....comforting.

I guess I finally managed to go back to sleep, because I woke again. This time it was Wufei's movements that awaken me. He is up and peering out through my curtains at the campus green below through the grey, predawn light. He turns and leaves the curtain slightly open, allowing the faint light into the room. I watch silently as he moves back to the blanket and sits. His hair is down from the tight ponytail, falling like flowing silk onto his shoulders. He raises his eyes and looks up, right into mine, and smiles reassuringly at me.

"He's hardly rested since you and Quatre disappeared." he whispers to me. "When we weren't on missions, he continuously scanned the Internet and OZ's systems trying to find you. OZ did very well at covering it's tracks concerning you and Quatre's disappearance. If it wasn't for your chance meeting with Relena, we might never have found you."

I nod and swallow nervously at him seeing me wrapped in Heero's arms. "Are we all this....close?" I whisper back, making a notion to Heero's arms in front of me.

"We're each other's family now." he answers me solemnly. "We watch each others backs, patch each other's wounds, fight together, mourn together, and," he nodded at Heero's embrace, "we find comfort with each other. We can't trust anyone else, just each other."

I nod. It makes sense. From what I've read and been told, the Gundam pilots are, in effect, terrorists from the colonies, sent to wreak havoc with the Earth's military forces. Wanted and hunted by their enemies. Who else would you trust with your physical and emotional needs than each other?

Wufei stood and began to fold the blanket I'd given him just a few hours before. "We need to leave soon." he states. "Have you come to a decision?" He stops and looks expectantly at me.

I close my eyes to think. The arms around me are distracting, but I don't feel like I want them to ever let go. Heero obviously feels some affection for me. He has searched for me and took the chance of being caught to come and give me the choice to stay in my current life, or resume my old one.

"We're a family?" I ask, looking for a solid reason to make my decision.

"Yes." Wufei says quietly but firmly.

"I have no one in this new life except a psychiatrist, who obviously takes away any memories I regain." I sigh as I come to a decision I think I've known all along. "I'm going with you." I say out loud. It feels right now that I've said it, and immediately, I feel the arms around me tighten.

"I'm glad, Duo." Heero whispers into my ear.

"Easy fella." I gasp and tap on his arm. "You're about to crush me." I mildly complain.

Heero moves his hand, lessening the grip only to ruffle my messed up hair in a friendly manner.

"We need to go." Wufei says nodding towards the window and indicating the sky is lightening.

Heero sits up, letting me go completely and turns to me. "We'll meet you at the bus stop after your shrink's appointment."

Funny, now that his touch and warmth have been withdrawn from me, I feel strangely bereft. "I'm usually done at four o'clock." I tell him. "That is if she doesn't fill me with drugs, then it's closer to five."

Wufei frowns at me. "What kind of drugs?" He asks as he forces his hair back into its previous tight ponytail.

"The kind that make me forget." I answer him, then continue to explain. "I usually come up with some lame memory, so insignificant that it's not worth the cost of the drug to administer it. I've been avoiding it for several weeks now. I couldn't chance her learning about Blue Eyes, and taking that memory away from me."

"What will you say today?" Heero queried

"Hmm." I pause to think, unconsciously tapping my index finger against my cheek at thoughts go through my head. "I'll tell her that I've had a dream about falling, and tell her that I've wondered why I like boots instead of tennis shoes. That should keep her slightly busy." I smile mischievously.

Heero nods in approval. "We'll meet you then, one block south of her office at the bus stop. Just get on the bus and we'll meet you on the inside."

"Do I get to take anything with me?" I ask and see their questioning look. "My clothes?"

Heero sighs audibly, shaking his head with a trace of humor on his face. "If you pack a light bag now, we'll take it with us. You can't take the chance of someone getting suspicious because you're carrying a suitcase around." he explains.

I jump up from the bed and move to my closet. I open it and take out my four favorite shirts and pants, some underwear and socks, almost all black, of course. I'll wear another favorite outfit after school and leave my school uniform behind. Putting them all in the overnight bag I'd been given by Ms. Preston when she picked me up at the hospital and drove me to the school, I zipped it up and handed the slightly bulging bag to Heero with a sheepish grin, hoping he wouldn't object to the amount or weight.

Wufei cracks the door open and looks up and down the silent corridor. With a nod, he signals it's all clear.

Heero turns to me and quickly embraces me. "Be careful today." He admonishes me. "Don't do anything that may lead anyone to suspect that you're leaving."

I nod and watch them silently leave. The door shuts behind them and once again, I'm all alone. Wrapping my thin arms around myself, I try to recapture the warmth and feelings I felt only a few moments ago. I realize their leaving has caused an emptiness inside me. 'I just have to make it through one more day.' I tell myself. 'Then I'll never have to be alone again.' That thought gives me enough comfort that I can move, preparing for the day ahead of me.

Somehow, I made it through the day, going through the motions of a regular student, like I've always done. It's an odd feeling to realize my life here at school and all that I'd been told of my former life had all been a lie, and it leaves me feeling angry. I've accomplished very little here, like treading water in the middle of a large lake. But not having any close friends now has it's advantages, it will allow me to slip away unnoticed from a life I was never meant to live. After class, I put on my black jeans, teal t-shirt, boots, and black leather jacket. I take my wallet and put it in my jacket pocket, taking a last look around the room. I'm somewhat surprised that I'm feeling excited to leave this false life behind and move into the unknown on the word of two boys I didn't remember.

After a short bus ride from the school to Ms. Preston's offices, I find myself sitting in my usual chair across from her desk. She seems to be studying my every move today and I begin to feel nervous under her close scrutiny. I wonder anxiously if she notices the excitement I feel as I anticipate meeting my two friends.

"You seem off today, Michel. Have you remembered something?"

"Remembered?" I ask as innocently as I can. "No, nothing." I let a little irritation seep out. "Shouldn't I be remembering something?" I ask frowning. "I thought you were suppose to help me remember. Why can't I picture my parents?" Now agitation comes out and I can see it settles her suspicion on why I was acting different, that is if I was.

She sits back in her chair and crosses her legs and I notice her shoes and stockings perfectly match the solid navy blue pant suit she's wearing. She presses her two manicured index fingers against her painted lips as she looks at me like an object worthy of study.

"These things can't be rushed, Michael." she replies calmly. "You've been through a traumatic incident, and while your body has healed, the mind takes time."

I nod in agreement. "I know." I sigh. "But it's very frustrating not to remember anything."

"Have you discovered anything new about yourself?" she asks as she formally begins the session.

"Well...." I drawl, and then proceed to tell her all that I'd rehearsed with Heero. I tell her of my curiosity about boots, and make up the dream of falling and then decide to add a little drama to it. "I never hit the ground when I fall," I tell her, "but, it sure scares the shit outta me." My eyes widen as I see her's do also.

"I'm sorry." I gasp slapping my hand over my mouth. I don't usually swear, but that came out quite naturally. "Where did that come from?" I say embarrassed as I see her frowning at me.

Her eyes then narrow in suspicion. "You don't usually use profanity so freely Michel. Are you sure you haven't remembered anything new?"

Even as I shake my head I wonder if swearing is a part of the old me. "Some of the guys at school swear when the teachers aren't around. I guess I'm kinda susceptible. I'll be more careful. Sorry." I apologize sincerely. All of a sudden I felt a lot of curse words in my head, ready to be used. Was the real me coming to the surface?

Ms. Preston is studying me again. Her eyes look dubious. "It's been a while since I put you under." he says slowly. "Maybe we should see if I can help you remember something more." As she stands and moves toward the cabinet that holds the medication she uses on me in our sessions, my heart starts to race in my chest; panic starts to well in me. What if I spill my guts about my visitors and what I'm about to do?

"Ms. Preston." I call out hesitantly. "Can we do that on my next visit?" I ask hopefully.

She turns to look at me, suspicion still there in her eyes. "Why?"

I look at my watch and note the time, three forty-seven. I needed to hurry. "A couple of guys at school invited me to go to the cinema with them this afternoon." I explain, lying through my teeth, and continue when she turns around fully to face me. "The show starts at four thirty, and I don't want to stand them up or they might not ask me to go again."

She lifts her delicate wrist and glances at her own gold, expensive watch to confirm the time. I decide to push a little more to drive my cause home. "No one has ever asked me to do something with them, and I'd hate to blow it." I say, hoping I sound convincing.

She looks at me and I'm relieved when she smiles. "Really, Michel? That's wonderful." She looks sincerely happy for me. "It's about time you made some new friends." Coming to a decision she smiles again. "Alright, we'll wait until next week." she moves back to her chair and I feel a sense of relief surge through me.

"I would like you to write down any new feelings or impression you have this week." she tells me. "We'll see if we can't trigger something to help you remember your parents."

'What a liar.' I think to myself. I hate it when people are two-faced. They're the people you have to guard yourself from. They're dangerous.

"Ah...., can I go now?" I ask. "I need to catch the bus if I'm going to make the show." To my surprise, she opens the large drawer in her desk and pulls out her wallet. She hands me several bills. "Here." she presses the money into my hand. "Treat the guys to pizza after the show. That's bound to help in making some friends." I'm confused. She actually sounds and seems sincere. Maybe she isn't all bad.

I smile and take the money with my thanks and leave as quickly as possible. I race to the entrance and run down the street to catch the bus. I'm a little winded as I flop down on the bench. Ten minutes later, the bus arrives and I get on, dropping the correct change into the collecting container. At a quick glance down the nearly empty bus, I see Heero and Wufei sitting in separate seats across from each other by the back door and halfway down the length of the bus. I move awkwardly down the isle as the bus speeds up and moves into traffic to sit in the seat just in front of Heero. I give he and Wufei a nervous smile as I fall loosely down onto the bench and heave a sigh of relief.

"No problems?" Heero asks as he moves forward and his hand clasps my shoulder.

"None." I reply and feel the reassuring squeeze he gives me.

"Good." he replies and his hand releases me. I slump down and rest the back of my head on the top of the seat and sigh, the journey to the past and present have just begun.

TBC


	4. part 4

The Eyes Have It

By: Dyna Dee

Part 4

I've learned some new and unusual ways to run and hide from the authorities as I travel with my new/old friends. Shortly after I met them on the bus, Heero handed me a false passport, in case I was stopped and questioned. The three of us traveled that night by way of hitchhiking, hopping on trains and truck transports, making our way to the south of France and, by the time class started the next morning, we were entering a very small cottage that they called a safehouse in Italy.

"We'll sleep here today and move on tonight." Heero informs me as he walks me down a hallway to show me a small room with a double bed where we left our bags. Wufei walks past us to another room down the hall. It's apparent that Heero and I will share the room and bed. I wonder if its because he doesn't trust me, making sure that I won't run away. Where would I run? I'm completely dependent on these two professed terrorists.

Before sleeping, we have a small breakfast of baguettes, orange marmalade, and orange juice. Very tasty. My eyelids suddenly feel very heavy from lack of sleep. I use the bathroom to prepare for bed and return to the room and strip down to my t-shirt and boxers and climb into the welcoming bed. Heero soon followed.

Just as I am falling asleep, I feel myself drawn into Heero's embrace again. He is spooned against my back.

"Heero?" I speak up timorously. "What exactly is our relationship?"

"We're friends, Duo." he answers sleepily. "The best of friends and partners. We're each others family."

"You're an orphan, too?" I ask.

"Hnn......hai." His voice is quiet, distant.

"Do we sleep like this often?" I had to know. I'm still confused about this arrangement.

"Only when one of us needs it." he replies.

"Which one of us needs it now, me or you?" I can't help the smile that grows on my face. For some unknown reason, it feels kinda good to put Heero on the spot.

He sighs, his warm breath sends a chill down my neck, though his chest warms my back. "Both of us." he replies. "Me, for reassurance that you're really here and not dead or lost to me; and you, because you need to know how much you were missed and are still needed."

I nod my head even as I feel my weariness ease me into sleep. His words are a comfort to me.

We spent three more days traveling by night, weaving a path across European countries. On the morning of the fourth day, I woke up in the back of a moving truck filled with boxed produce headed for the market. The sounds of a city are heard outside. Raising my head up off of Heero's arm, I look out the back of the truck. The sun is up and we seem to be surrounded by tall, white-painted, brick buildings.

Heero sits up behind me and pulls me up with him. Reaching behind him, he awakens Wufei with a shake just as the truck stops and the engine is killed. A door in the front opens and slams shut.

"Here you go fellas." A middle age man in old jeans and a plaid cotton shirt pulls down the tailgate of his truck.

"Where are we?" I ask, my voice is groggy, and I rub the sleep from my eyes with the heel of my palms. I feel very tired, not being use to sleeping in strange beds and places that made impromptu sleeping quarters, like the back of this truck. I haven't gotten much sleep in the last week, and it's now catching up to me.

"You're in the Sanq Kingdom, son." The obscenely cheerful man answers. "Come on now, rise and shine." he sing/songs to us. "Help me unload these vegetables and I'll buy you breakfast." he offers, and we gladly accept.

The unloading was a fairly simple task, and was quickly accomplished. We dine with Frederick, the farmer, on a breakfast of eggs, ham, baguettes, jam and coffee. He quickly leaves us as he's in a rush to open his business at the farmer's market. Heero, too, seems anxious to move on and we quickly move down the narrow streets towards the city center.

I haven't spoken much in the last few days, my mind has been trying to figure things out, causing me to have several strong headaches. As my friends don't seem to have the gift of gab, we make a very quiet threesome. It doesn't bother me too much. I've gotten use to having no one to talk to. What an odd group we are.

"Where to now?" I ask, hoping that our journey will end soon. I'm growing weary of it.

"There." I turn my head to follow the direction Heero points to. It's to a large building on the side of the hillside.

I look at him pointedly, looking for a more specific answer.

"That's where Relena lives." he explains. "We'll be safe there for a while."

Wufei nods. "It's a private school right now." he adds. "We may have to attend classes there while we wait for news from Trowa."

After walking up through the city and up the hillside, we finally arrive at the school and are instantly herded into a stately looking office overlooking the bay below. The sound of feet running down the carpeted corridor draws our attention to the doorway where the girl I had seen in the museum came to stand, wearing the same fancy uniform. "You found him!" she says breathlessly, her eyes sparkling with happiness.

Heero nods and stands as straight and rigid as a soldier on guard duty as she throws her arms around him. "I'm so happy for you Heero." she coos as she tightly embraces him.

"Thanks for the tip." Heero replies without any tone or emotion in his voice. 

The girl then turns to address me. "You're well, Duo?" her eyes are bright and seem genuinely pleased to see me.

I nod my head in reply because I have know idea how to address her. Is she Relena? Princess Relena? Miss Peacecraft? Your Highness? I don't know, so I handle the situation they only way I can, I nod my head in reply.

She looks at me with curiosity then turns to welcome Wufei. "Nice to see you again, Mr Chang." she says a bit more formally than to Heero and I. Wufei seems to bring formality out in people. Maybe it's his unfriendly scowl that makes others treat him so respectfully. He can be down right scary, like Heero and his death glare. My head begins to ache as I wonder where that last thought came from.

Looking back at me, Relena studies me, her eyes penetrating, much like Ms. Preston's, trying to analyze me, see behind my unresponsive mask. Her scrutiny makes me feel uncomfortable. "What's the matter with him, Heero?" she asks. "Why's he so quiet?"

"He's like that now." he states simply. "He still doesn't remember us." I realize that now there are three people seemingly disturbed with my silence and the obvious change in me.

"What do I call you?" I ask, not liking being talked about as if I wasn't here.

"Relena." she smiles prettily at me.

"Not Princess or some more formal title?" I ask, raising an eyebrow.

"No, to my friends, I'm Relena." she assures me.

"I'm a friend?" I question, mildly surprised. It's hard to believe a street kid from L-2 could know a princess.

"Maybe not a close friend, but a friend just the same.

"That makes five then." I say and see curiosity in her blue eyes.

"Five?" she questions.

I nod. "Five friends."

She smiles warmly, seeming to be pleased to be found in that category. She then turns smiling to Heero. "I have an e-mail message for you from 03 that arrived last night." she tells him. "Come," she moves towards the desk and opens a laptop. "let me key it up and open it for you." She turned her head to look into Heero's eyes. "I didn't open it." she assures him even as her hands begin to type.

She stands to move away once the message page is open, and Heero quickly moves to take her place. She moves over to Wufei and I in order to give Heero some privacy.

Wufei stands at my side, somehow it's reassuring in this unfamiliar setting. He and Relena both chat in a formal, amiable fashion as my eyes scan the grandiose room. She asks me question that I don't feel like answering, so I shrug and nod my answers. I see her frown at my lack of response.

Finally, Heero stands up from the desk and moves towards us. "We're going to L-4. Trowa's found Quatre under guard at one of his father's estates there."

"Do you want me to keep Duo here, for his safely?" Relena asks, trying to be helpful. But somehow the simple offer causes a sudden panic to flood me at the thought of the other two pillars of strength leaving the planet without me. I look to Heero, knowing the decision rests with him. He studies me in turn, and I think he sees the panic behind my eyes. I can't look away from the cobalt blue orbs, even as Wufei speaks up.

"Without his memory he could be a liability instead of an asset." he states in a matter-of-fact tone.

Heero nods, letting Wufei know that he had heard his opinion. But though he doesn't say a word, I can see Heero's mind working, analyzing the situation before he decides. "He's coming with us." he announces, much to my relief, and for the first time in days, I manage a small smile.

That evening, thanks to Relena's financial support, I find myself (along with the other two pilots) boarding a shuttle bound for the L-4 Colony. We're wearing slight disguises to fool any security cameras that might be on the lookout for us. Heero informed me on the way to the launch pad that the trip will take all night. I find the take off and the experience of leaving the atmosphere to be exhilarating. After a meal is served, I look up to see Heero's hand held out, a white capsule in his palm. He tells me it will help with any air/space sickness I might experience. My stomach is rather tight with nervousness, and while everything is a new memory in the making for me, I feel a strong sense of de'javu, something familiar, and then my head starts to ache again. In the last several days, I've noticed that whenever a forgotten memory is close to unraveling, I suffer a severe headache. This has happened at least three times a day since I left the school, and its taking a toll on me. I can see the concern on my companions' faces, even though I thought I'd managed to keep the pain and the reason for it to myself. Wufei tells me my silence in unnerving. For the life of me I don't know why it bothers him, he and Heero are just as quiet as I've been.

I take the pill, trusting my friend, and as the movie begins to show on the screen on the back of the seat in front of me, I find myself unable to resist the heavy, sleepy feeling that overcomes me.

Heero is shaking my shoulder and his voice breaks through the heavy layer of fog in my mind as he attempts to wake me. I feel sluggish and too tired to open my eyes. But finally, the smell of food arouses my senses enough that I manage to force open my eye lids. I blink in astonishment as I recognize that breakfast is sitting before me. Looking at my watch I realize that I've slept for over ten hours. An almost unheard of event in the last month. There's an awful taste in my mouth, and the grogginess lingers. I wonder what it was that Heero had me take last night. I know for sure it wasn't a motion sickness pill.

I put my doubts and questions aside because, after all, I'm starving. I gulp down my food, even eating some of the food the other two offer me from off their trays. They're wearing indulgent smiles. 

We arrive at Colony L-4 just after 11:30 a.m., Colony time. Heero leaves Wufei and I to wait in the terminal while he rendezvous with Trowa and finds a place for us to stay. We're instructed to remain here in the safety of the shuttle terminal and crowds until he returns.

With nothing else to do, Wufei and I wander the lengthy terminal. It feels good to stretch my legs after sitting for so long. After a while, we settle into the section we agreed to be in when Heero returned and sit side by side, our traveling bags on the chairs next to us. As I study the people walking past us, I can feel Wufei's gaze is fixed on me, his dark eyes thoughtfully studying me. 

I turn my head to look at him questioningly. "What?" I ask, wondering if I'm wearing some breakfast in my hair or teeth.

His eyes narrow just a bit before he answers. "They changed you." he says quietly, there's definitely a sad tone to his voice.

"How?" Curiosity always gets the best of me.

"Your spark, your spontaneity is gone, as well as your smile and laughter. I miss the other you, though I'd probably not admit that in front of the others." he manages a small smile. 

I respond with a shrug. "Sorry." Not knowing what else to say at his obvious disappointment that I'm not who I use to be. I rest my elbows on my knees and place my chin on my upraised hands.

"I've offended you." Wufei says quietly contrite. "I'm sorry." I feel his hand on my shoulder. I want to shrug it off, his disappointment hurts me, but I'm too afraid to offend these guys. If I do, they might leave me and I'd be all alone again. Maybe once I would have known what to do on my own, Heero said I survived on the streets of L-2 most of my life. But in all honesty, I don't know what I'd do if I was separated from them. It scares the shit out of me when I contemplate it. What the hell was I thinking, putting my life into the hands of two teenage terrorists. I put my face into my hands and offer a silent prayer for strength and courage.

"Duo?" Wufei's voice is filled with concern, but I ignore him. I feel his arm go around my shoulder.

"Just because you're different now doesn't mean that we care for you any less." he says softly, trying to reassure me. "I think, how you are now, might have been how you would be if your life hadn't been so hard, nor your losses so great." I feel him press himself closer to me. "I'm beginning to believe that maybe, part of your buoyant personality was a mask that hid your inner pain. Once in a while, it slipped, and we saw a glimpse of it. But that was rare. I think your smile and jokester persona effectively built a wall around it, keeping your pain deep inside you." His arm around my shoulders tightened. "Seeing you this way, quiet and introspective is different, but it also means you are more at peace than before. It's not altogether a bad thing."

I slowly sit up to look into his face, my own looking serious. "Is anyone ever really at peace, Wufei?" I ask.

"I think we can be." Wufei pulls back a bit, and I can tell he's relieved the subject has changed. "I was once, as a young child. I hope to be so again one day, though I doubt it." there was an air of finality about him as he said that.

"Why, Wufei? Why don't you think you can find peace?" I wonder out loud. "You fight for it, and you have your whole life ahead of you."

He looks at me, sadly indulgent. "I have a lot of blood on my hands, Duo." he tells me in a ghost of a voice, seemingly haunted by the statement. "War does that to soldiers. Even though our cause is just, the lives we take haunt us."

My eyes widen with as a idea just occurred to me. "H....h..have I killed?" I ask. Without a memory, it seems inconceivable that a fifteen-year-old kid could be a killer.

Wufei's head nods as he answers. "You call yourself Death, or Shinigami. You're quite ruthless in your Gundam." he says quietly so no one will overhear our conversation, but his face is deadly serious.

Suddenly, I find I can't sit any longer. Agitation and anxiety cause me to jump to my feet. My head begins to pound with pain and the room seems to be spinning as I struggle to comprehend what Wufei has just said. "I call myself Death? I kill people?" I choke out. I realize that I'm breathing much too fast, but I can't control it. Distantly, I hear Wufei call out to me in alarm and he grabs at my arm. I jerk it free and start to run as if the Devil himself is after me. I have to get out of here, away from all the people crowding around me, away from the knowledge and pain of my past, away from Death and the blood that Wufei says is me. I ignore the stares of people as I run past them. I don't know where I am, or where I'm going, I only know I have to run. Fear urges me on as well as it screams for me to stop. "God help me. God help me." I pray as my feet pound on the pavement as I run down a busy street. I hear shouting behind me, but I can't stop. I'm aware enough of my surroundings to dodge traffic and avoid colliding into pedestrians. Up ahead I see a patch of green and head for it. I don't know if I've ever run this fast before, but everything seems to be a blur as my legs stretch out before me. My chest is heaving as I struggle for air and I feel moisture leaking from my eyes. I reach the park and run across the green grass. In the back of my mind, I note its softness cushioning under my booted feet. Now my legs are beginning to cramp, and I've got a stitch in my side, but I can't stop, I need to keep running. I instinctively feel that there is safety in running and hiding.

Suddenly, I feel my lower legs grabbed, abruptly stopping me, and I'm falling, fast and hard. The ground comes up quickly to rudely meet me, and with a thud, my head and chest hit the ground, and I surrender easily to the blackness that envelopes me.

TBC


	5. part 5

Author's note: Sorry for the delay, Spring Break is my most legitimate excuse. 

The Eyes Have It

Part 5

Dyna Dee

Startled, my body jerks as I come to my senses. I'm fully aware of my sore legs as well the ache in my head and chest. Slowly, my memory quickly returns. Realization hits that I'd had another panic attack and that I'd run. With a slight gasp, I sit up, regretting it the moment I moved. My head feels like it's splitting in half. My hands fly up to cradle it and I tightly squeeze my eyes shut.

"Easy, Duo." A new voice comes from the side of my bed. I cautiously open my eyes to see that, gratefully, the room is curtained and dark, lit only by the light of an activated but soundless television screen. I try to focus my dazed eyes on the person in the room with me. 

"Who are you?" I ask, feeling alarmed at the unfamiliar room and unknown person with me. "Where am I?" I instinctively scramble to the far side of the queen-sized bed being instantly and clutch at my head again as I'm rewarded with more pain to my aching noggin.

"It's okay, Duo. It's me, Trowa. Do you remember me?" his voice is soft and his manner is calm and gentle.

"No....but I think your another pilot." I answer with a small voice. "Where's Heero?" I look frantically around the room for him, realizing he's not there. 

"He and Wufei had to go back to the space terminal to claim your bags. You guys left them behind when you ran." he explained. "They'll bring some food back with them." 

I have to wonder if all these guys know that food was a comfort item for me.

I nod, trying to calm myself....this is suppose to be another friend, I remind myself. His manner and body language relay to me that I am safe with him.

"You found Blue Eyes." I state, raising my hand to press my palm against my pained forehead.

Even in the dim light I can see his smile. "Yes, Heero told me that's what you call Quatre." He paused for a moment, then continued. "He's not far from here, and with luck, we'll have him back with us soon, hopefully tonight."

I nod again and wince as the pain shoots through my head.

"Lie down, Duo. You don't look well." Trowa moves slowly and cautiously towards me, as if I'm a frightened, wild animal, and helps ease me back to my pillow. I gratefully sink down into it, closing my eyes.

"What happened Duo?" he asks, his voice is gentle and not accusing. "Wufei said you just started to run. Where were you going?"

"I had a panic attack." I explain. "The guys at school said I'd had one once before, during a history class. I can't remember why I had it, because as soon as I collapsed and they caught me, they hauled me right to my shrink and she got rid of whatever memory triggered it. I...think that today, I couldn't handle what Wufei told me about myself." I start to rub my forehead, hoping to rub away the pain. "I feel like I was hit by a truck." I moan. "Man, my head hurts."

"Heero saw you run out of the terminal and followed you." Trowa's voice recedes as he speaks, obviously walking away from me. "He had to tackle you to make you stop."

There's a pause, and then his voice was closer when he speaks again. "Here, take this."

I crack one eye open to see the long-banged guy holding a couple of pills out to me in his open hand, and a glass of water in the other. "I don't like drugs." I say and close my eyes.

"I remember." Trowa's voice has a touch of humor in it. "These are just aspirin to help your headache. You've taken them before."

"Promise? Heero's drugged me already." I tell him.

"I promise." he says and puts his hand on my shoulder to help me sit up again. I take the pills and swallow them down with the water hoping silently that they'll work quickly, then hand the glass back to him as I finish. "Besides," Trowa continues. "if Heero drugged you, you just have needed it."

"Maybe so." I mumble. It may have been true at the time, but it didn't mean I had to like it. I settle myself back down and feel a cool hand touching my face. The touch is gentle as Trowa pushes my hair away from my face.

"I missed you, Duo." he says in a gentle way I think is natural to him. "I'm glad you decided to come back to us."

"Are we good friends?" I ask as his hand rests in a soothing manner on my forehead. It helps, and his cool palms feel really, really good against the throbbing pain just under it.

"You and Heero are the closest." he replies. "I'm closer to Quatre, but yes, we're friends, good friends. The kind of friend you can trust with your life."

"I hope so." I say with a sigh. "Because that's what I'm doing on blind faith and on your word. I'm placing my life in your hands."

I feel his long, cool fingertips as they move to message my temples. "Feels good." I moan.

He continues his ministration and slowly, after a time, the pain in my head lessens. I'm just on the edge of sleep when I hear a patterned knock on the door and the blessed message ends when the finger tips are removed. Light spills into the dark, curtained room as Trowa lets the other two in. Their arms are full of luggage and bags of food. Unmoving, I watch them through my eye lashes, feeling relaxed and not wanting the glaring light or any sudden movement to impede my progress.

"How is he?" Heero asks in a whisper as he unburdens his arms and hands then to Trowa, then moves towards me.

"He woke up with a headache and a bit frightened that you weren't here. I took care of him though," Trowa reported. "didn't I, Duo?" He was letting me and the others know that he knew I wasn't sleeping.

"Mumm, your hands worked magic." I hum in sluggish bliss with a slight crooked smile on my lips. My eyes remain nearly closed until I feel a weight settle on the bed next to me. I let them open a bit to see Heero above me.

"Why did you run, Duo?" he asks as he studies my face, his own looking solemn. My eyes lock onto his, and I find the dark blue eyes strangely intense with emotions I can't quite define. In contrast, I feel as if he can read my every thought. 

"Please, don't be mad ." I answer, feeling suddenly frightened of his disapproval. Unfortunately, my voice reflects my fear, and I guess my eyes do too because he smiles at me reassuringly and his hand touches my face.

"I'm not mad," he says softly. "just concerned."

"He said it was a panic attack from something Wufei said to him." Trowa spoke up, answering the question for me. I look over Heero's shoulder to give him a look filled with appreciation that I don't have to repeat my answer to Heero. Wufei is to the side of Trowa, standing just slightly behind, his face scowling. It's clear that he's angry at me. Man, I'm pathetic, I tell myself as I feel my self tremble. I'm shaking at the very thought that they are going to abandon me because of my weakness. My eyes return to Heero, who is watching my every move. Though I try to hide what I'm feeling, I think he senses my fear.

"What are you afraid of Duo?" He asks. Damn, I turn away from the three sets of eyes staring at me. I close my eyes and find the comfort of Blue Eyes looking at me with eyes filled with compassion and understanding at my feelings fear.

"We shouldn't have brought him with us." Wufei says, practically snarling.

"Be quiet, Wufei. You're the one who set him off." Trowa snapped back.

"Duo," Heero addresses me again. "look at me." His voice quietly commands me, and I'm compelled to obey. I turn my head back and open my eyes, letting go of the vision of Blue Eyes to meet the intense cobalt blue ones. I see the same compassion and worry in them now that I have seen in Blue Eyes. "What are you afraid of?" He repeats his question in a softer tone.

"Right now," I answer a bit hesitant, my eyes shifting to each of them. "I'm....afraid you'll decide I'm... not worth the bother and you'll leave me stranded here.....alone." I reach out for Heero's shirt and grab hold of the front of it. "I...I don't think I can remember how to care for myself without any money or idea of where I am. Please, Heero, don't abandon me here. Not in space." I know I sound as desperate as I feel as I search his face, and I'm relieved when his features soften even more and he puts his hands over mine, still clutching his shirt front.

"I promise, I won't leave you, Duo." there is force behind his words. "None of us will. We're family."

I look to Trowa who nods his head in agreement. Wufei does the same. Impulsively, I push myself up, and throw my arms around Heero's neck and hug him fiercely, transmitting all my relief and gratitude into the embrace. I feel his arms tighten around me, reassuring me with firm pats from his hands on my back.

"Why did you run, Duo?" He asks again, his voice soft in my ear and I hold onto him as if my life depends on it.

"Because I'm a killer." I whisper hoarsely. "A ruthless killer and I don't even remember it. How many lives have I taken?" I ask not waiting for an answer. "How many times have I damned my soul to hell?" The feeling of fear is quickly rising in me again.

Heero rubs my back in a soothing motion. "That's part of the pain I told you about." he reminds me. "It bothers all of us, but it's a part of a soldier's life. If we don't fight, others will suffer. We choose to suffer so that others won't have to."

"Blue Eyes is a soldier too?" I ask as the impossible thought comes to me. It seems unbelievable that the compassion and empathy I've see in those eyes could also be those eyes of a killer.

"Yes." Heero answers. "Each life he takes hurts him as well. Yet we kill only when threatened and don't kill unnecessarily."

With my eyes closed and my body held firmly against Heero, I sense that he is my anchor in all this insanity. He's strong, smart, and a wise leader. He's the one I instinctively turn to. I raise my head slightly to see Wufei over Heero's shoulder, scowling at me. I whisper into Heero's left ear. "I don't think Wufei likes me. He's scowling at me."

Heero turns his head to look over his shoulder and then turns back to whisper in my ear. "That's how we've all looked since you and Quatre disappeared. With both of you gone, we were denied the joy and comfort we'd come to rely on from the both of you." he explained.

I lean back to look into his face, uncertainty clearly written on mine. "We...I did that? Gave you joy and comfort."

Heero smiles gently at me. He has a beautiful smile. "You've dragged us to movies, made us eat pizza, hamburgers, and ice cream until we acquired a taste for it. You taught us to dance, to laugh at ourselves, and make us celebrate ridiculous American holidays." He chuckled. "Both of you taught the rest of us how to be teenagers again, especially during those times when we don't have to be soldiers." Heero raised a hand and places it on my shoulder. Instinctively, I know that he is expressing gratitude that he cannot speak.

The moment passes and, as no one speaks, my stomach is clearly heard as it growls furiously. I'm aware that I feel hollow with hunger.

"Speaking of food." Trowa breaks the silence and we all smile at his teasing of my starving and loudly complaining organ.

"What did ya bring me?" I ask Heero who has completely released me. I look up to see Trowa wiping away some moisture from the corner of his eye.

"They might have taken your memory away," he spoke quietly with a smile on his face. "But you're still Duo." His whole manner speaks affection for me for which I'm grateful and find it easy to return to the gentle soldier.

We dined on an assortment of Chinese food and, after all containers were emptied, I collapsed back onto the bed, completely stuffed, nearly to the point of being miserable. As we ate, Trowa spoke of himself and our experiences together, hoping to jog my memory. Quatre, or Blue Eyes, figured into most of his tales.

I lay spread eagle on the bed as the others finish at a much slower pace. "You get enough to eat, Duo?" Trowa asks, and I can hear amusement in his voice.

I moan my answer, and the other three chuckle at my misery. I can't fathom their humor.

"Why don't you go take a shower, Duo." Heero suggests as he begins to gather up the garbage. "I'm sure you'll feel better after it."

"UmmmK." I answer and listlessly roll my over-indulged body from off the bed. I see my duffel bag against the wall and haul the entire thing into the bathroom with me. Relena saw to it that I had all the necessities; shampoo, deodorant, cologne, hair ties, plus pajamas and slippers. It was very thoughtful of her, but she made me feel uneasy as she kept suggesting that I should stay behind with her. Heero assured me we were only casual acquaintances when I questioned him about her motives. He explained that Relena probably saw that, if she kept me with her, it would insure that he would return. Oh, so that's what's going on. I wonder if Heero shares the same fascination for her that she has for him. There's still so much I don't understand.

My shower is a nice, hot, and long one. I hope no one else wants to shower tonight and I feel a twinge of guilt as the water turns decidedly cool. Reluctantly, I turn it off. Hey, Heero was right, I do feel better. Cracking open the bathroom door I let excess steam out as I call out a question. "Clothes or pajamas?"

"Clothes." Heero calls back. 

I shut the door and comply by dressing in my favorite low on the hip, black jeans and long-sleeve black t-shirt with the name of one of my favorite groups, Death's Doorstep" emblazoned in red on the front and back. After wiping the moisture off the glass surface, I inspect my image in the full-length mirror on the door. My jeans are suppose to be tight, but my legs are too thin for that to happen. "But, damn, I look good!" I say softly and smile, pleased at my reflection and take a comb to my hair. It's getting longer, and I like it better then when I first saw my unfamiliar face in the mirror in the hospital. Toying with the wet hair, I first comb it completely back to resemble Wufei's severe hairstyle. Nah, too much forehead, my face feels over exposed. Next, I brush it forward and to the side like Trowa's. Nope, it's too distracting to have hair in front of one eye. I mess my hair up with both hands to start again. But, seeing my self in the mirror, I stop and examine my reflection and decided that I like what I see. My hair has separated and falls into a style similar to Heero's messy mop, and several strands fall past my eyes. I straighten out a few strands and smile at myself. I like the total look, though a now familiar ache begins just behind my eyes. I push it aside and with another look in the mirror decided that the hair and the clothes go well together.

Putting all my stuff away, I emerge from the warm room. "Ta da! Whaddaya think?" I ask, posing in the doorway.

The three sitting at the paper covered table turn to look at me.

"You're sure you don't remember anything?" Wufei asks, his critical eye studying my appearance.

"Not much, why?" I walk closer to the table, curious as to what they're looking at.

"Minus the braid, you look just like you did before your capture." Trowa answered.

Heero nods his agreement with a smile. I shrug. "I just know that I like black and my hair looks cool like this." I explain.

"It does at that." Heero chuckles and I see that he realizes it looks similar to his shock of messy hair. Well, imitation is the highest form of flattery, isn't it?

"What's up?" I motion to the papers on the table.

"Trowa mapped out the estate where Quatre's being held." Heero explains. "We're planning how to infiltrate and retract him without hurting anyone."

Trowa looks up at me. "Quatre's father and some of his sisters are in residence. He's being guarded by some of the Maguanacs."

"Magua what?" I ask.

"Maguanacs." Wufei repeated. "Soldiers, who have fought along side us against the Alliance and OZ. They are loyal to the Winner family, but mostly to Quatre."

"So, they are a.....friendly opposition?" I guess, trying to figure this out.

"Friendly, in that Quatre wouldn't want any of them hurt." Heero said. "Opposition, in that his father was against his piloting a gundam. He's a pacifist, and Quatre disagreed with him on sitting back to see what would happen to the colonies instead of acting to gain their independence. He ran away from his father's control the day his gundam was finished."

I nod, beginning to understand at least of part of Blue Eyes' past. I pull up a chair and turn it around so I can straddle the back as I sit, prepared to learn.

Trowa began to explain what I missed while I was in the shower. "I got myself hired on as a delivery boy for the local grocery store that delivers to the estate. The Maguanacs drink a particularly strong brand of tea at night, so I conveniently put a strong sedative in the order I delivered this morning. I also slipped some into the case of wine that Quatre's family drinks with the evening meal. With any luck, the estate will be full of drugged, heavily sleeping people by the time we get there.

The three brought my attention to the map and to the point of entry to the grounds and to the house. They targeted a room near the Master Suite, anticipating that the head of the Winner family would keep his son close to him. If news of Duo's disappearance had been reported to him, they would be exercising more caution.

I listen as they explain the whole operation. I know exactly where they will be and the time frame. What I don't know is....

"So, where do you want me?" I ask.

Wufei and Trowa look at Heero. He's slowly raises his head to look at me. "I don't know if you're ready for this, Duo; not without your memory, anyway. I think that you should stay here until we return for you."

I shake my head. "I don't want to be left behind." I say adamantly and instantly determine to be stubborn about it.

"After your panic attack today," Wufei cut in. "I don't know that we can trust you to stay put. We won't be able to follow if it happens again during the retraction and you run." He's not intentionally trying to be cruel, but it hurts just the same. 

I look at him accusingly. "Are you always so mean to me?" I ask and feel pleased to see a startled look cross his face.

"I'm not being mean to you, Maxwell." he says defensively.

"That's for me to judge, and I say you are." I reply and, even to my ears, I sound like a petulant brat.

I notice Heero and Trowa exchange an small, amused look.

"We don't have time for bickering." Heero says, forcing himself to remain soberly focused on the task ahead. "I think you would be safer if we left you here, Duo." 

Something inside of me rebels at his decision. "Go ahead then and leave me here." I snap back, folding my arms stubbornly on top of my chest. "I'll just try to follow you when you're gone."

"We could tie you up." Trowa suggests straight faced.

"Then I'll scream." I lift my chin defiantly.

"And gag you." Wufei promises.

"Then I'll kick a hole in the wall to get the neighbor's attention." I reply with an evil look in my eye.

"I could force a sleeping pill down your throat." Heero threatens with a frown, and I quickly try to think of a come back.

"Then I'll aspirate with the gag in my mouth and die." 'Clean that mess up.' I think smugly to myself.

The room falls silent as the three stare at me. I stare right back, determined to follow through on each threat.

"All right, you can come." Heero relents with a deep sigh and a shake of his head.

All is forgiven and I smile brightly at them.

Wufei drops his head onto the table with a moan, Trowa clasps his hands over the top of his bowed head, and Heero looks at me in disbelief. "You must be getting your memory back." he tells me. "You're as infuriating as ever."

"Thanks!" I answer brightly. I love getting my way. It feels....powerful."

"You'll guard our escape route." Heero decides and points to the map and indicating where I'll stand at the back of the mansion. The kitchen door is where they 'll enter and exit. "You'll be positioned here and you'll need to keep it clear until we return with Quatre."

I nod, glad to have something to do.

"Do you remember how to handle this?" It seems as if from out of nowhere Heero produces a gun and sets it before me. I pick it up and examine it. Releasing the safety, I open and release the cartridge, see it fully loaded, slap it closed, and turning, straighten my arm and aim for the television screen across the room.

"NO!" all three shout at me in unison, their hands flying out towards me.

With a snicker, I narrow my eyes as I look over my shoulder and give them a wicked smile. I thoroughly enjoy the look of shock and horror on their faces. This is fun, and I wonder if I do this kind of thing often.? That thought alone seemed to trigger a rush of memories that flash through my mind. I recall memories of short sheeting Heero's bed, of painting smiley faces on a large mobile suit that I instinctively know is Wufei's, and the horrified, comical look on my friend's faces as they drink jalapeno spiked milk. But the memories come with a price. As pain rips through my mind, I manage to drop the gun on the table and raise both hand to clutch my head as agony blankets my mind. The pain is heavy, intense, and blinding, but as the memory ceases, the pain begins to ease, leaving me with another familiar and throbbing headache. 

I come to my senses slowly and realize that I'm on the floor, my breathing is rapid and shallow. I can feel the others hovering close around me.

"It'sokay." I gasp. "S'gone." I manage to slur out.

"What the hell was that, Maxwell?" Wufei needs to work on his bedside manner. 

I manage to open my eyes and turn my head to see their expressions of worry and concern just above me.

"It seems my memories come with a price." I answer as Heero scoops me up into his arms, and I'm quickly returned to the bed. 

"What did you remember?" He asks me as he sits next to me. I tell him of the practical jokes I remembered just after I'd wondered about it.

Wufei snorts scoffingly and rolls his eyes. "Of all the things to remember."

"It's a start." Trowa counters.

"This isn't the first, though, is it?" Heero asks me knowingly. "You've had other memories and episodes."

I nod my head. "Ever since we left the school I've remembered feelings and glimpses of past events and sometimes thoughts." I answer.

"You should stay here." Heero says softly. "If you should have one of these episodes during the operation....." his voice trails off.

"No," I adamantly insist. "I can control it." I assure them all as I look at their skeptical faces. "I invited this memory. I wondered if I'd ever pulled a prank on you guys before and those memories came to me. I'll focus on the mission. I promise, I won't invite a memory. Please...don't leave me behind."

The three study me and then each other. It's clear to me that the decision still rests with Heero.

"How do you feel?" he asks me. "And remember, Duo Maxwell doesn't lie."

I nod, remembering him telling me that before. "I have a damn good headache, but I'm sure some more aspirin will help."

"I'll get it." Trowa turns to where ever he stashes the pain reliever.

Heero looks at his watch. "It's seven thirty." he states and look directly at me again. "We'll all rest here until midnight. From here, Trowa will show us where the Winner shuttle is located and we'll secure it for a quick escape from the colony. From there we'll go to the estate and take Quatre." Okay, so I'm impressed by his skills as a leader already. I've already decided I'd follow where ever he leads.

His eyes bore into mine as he continues. "If, for any reason, we are separated at any point during the mission, return to the shuttle. If the operations goes sour, one of us should be able to return and take you back to Earth or to a safe place."

Trowa returns with the familiar pills and glass of water in his hands. "Thanks Tro." I say as I take them. I notice he is smiling at me and I give him a questioning look.

"It's coming back, Duo." he says. "You're the only one who has ever called me Tro." he explains.

Heero quickly arranges for our nap on the queen-size bed. Heero, Wufei and I will share the bed with Trowa taking the two cushioned chairs. We sleep fully clothed ready to leave when we awaken. I lay sandwiched between the two and as soon as the others' breathing evens, Heero pulls me up against his chest. By now, I'm use to this, and find it comforting. Yet as my back lies comfortably against the warmth of Heero's chest, I see Wufei sleeping in front of me, turned away and curled in on himself. He's been so cross with me since I ran, but maybe it's because he needs some comforting too. Heero's arms are firmly encasing me in their fold, but Wufei is close enough that I can reach him. He jumps slightly as I grab hold of him and pull him into my arms, duplicating Heero's hold on me.

"What are you doing Maxwell?" he hisses at me, his body is rigid in my embrace.

"Offering comfort." I reply in a soft whisper. "Isn't that what you told me we offer each other?" I ask and quickly continue. "And, I don't want you to be mad at me anymore."

"I'm not mad at you." he whispers sadly. "I'm angry at what's been done to you."

I resettle his head on my upper arm. "Just sleep, Wufei." I admonish him gently with a yawn. "Somehow it will all work out."

Slowly, his stiffness eases and I sense him slipping unto sleep. I resettle my head on Heero, cuddling back into him. He not only feels solid and protecting, but he smells good, too. His arm tightens momentarily around my chest. "Sleep, Duo." he whispers into my ear.

"You too." I yawn again and I feel him resettling against my back as we gradually join Wufei in the realm of sleep.

TBC

note: The next chapter will offer a yaoi and non-yaoi ending. Please pick your preference as labeled.


	6. Author's note

Author's note:

Guess I haven't made myself clear about the yaoi, non-yaoi ending, so here goes. This story has TWO endings. Part 6A is the NON-YAOI ending, no m/m couples. Part 6B is a yaoi ending. Please don't read if this material is offensive to you. Hopefully, everyone will be pleased with their chosen ending. Happy reading.

Dyna


	7. Part 6A - Non Yaoi

Authors Note: Part 6a is the NON-YAOI ending to The Eyes Have It. Do not venture to part 6b if you have no desire to read a yaoi ending. 

The Eyes Have It

By: Dyna Dee

Part 6a

At approximately one-forty five a.m., I find myself standing in the shadows near the back door of the Winner mansion, just outside the kitchen. I have my orders; to stay here and guard the exit for their retreat.

I check my watch, again. It's been seven minutes. Heero estimated it might take six to ten minutes, depending on whether or not Quatre was in the room they suspected he would be, and if their path was clear, no guards or servants keeping watch.

The gun I hold in my hand isn't the some one I'd handled earlier. This gun is larger, a dart gun with a strong sedative that causes an instant reaction once it hits a target. We couldn't risk hurting any of the people Quatre cared for, even though they are responsible for kidnaping him and erasing his memories and mine.

Hearing a slight noise to my right, I melt further into the shadows of the mansion's walls. The sound didn't come from the inside, but from around the corner. Evidently, someone didn't drink his tea tonight.

I press myself against the wall. The flower bushes that border the house are not very big and won't hide me, so I crouch down into a ball next to one and put my head down, hoping to hide my lily-white face. I force myself not to look up as I hear quiet footfalls approaching.

'I am not visible, I am not visible.' I repeat over and over to myself, wishing it to be true.

"Hey there!" a deep voice calls out and I know I'm caught. I instantly spring to my feet, my arms holding out the dart gun, but I freeze as I hear the metal click of a release on a gun behind the bright light that is flashing into my face, blinding me.

"Put it down." I'm commanded by the deep voice. Damn!

There's a moment of silence as I lower my weapon, but only slightly.

"Master Duo?" Whoever is behind the light knows me.

"Who are you?" I ask, not that I'll remember him.

"Abdul." He replies. "Rashid's cousin. Do you remember me?" he asks. 

"Sorry, Abdul." I shake my head. "OZ wiped my memory. I can't remember you because I don't even remember myself." I tell him.

Another moment passes quietly.

"Put your gun down, Master Duo." he says gently. "We are friends and have fought side by side on Earth. There is no need for a weapon among friends." I note a touch of sadness in his voice as he too lowers his gun.

I let out the breath I'd been hold, sighing with relief. He lowers the flashlight beam taking the bright light out of my eyes, I can almost see to make out his features. I'm not surprised that they're not familiar

"It's the same with Master Quatre." he says almost despondently. "They took his memory and he doesn't remember the war, the Maguanacs, nor his gundam. His father has forbidden us from saying anything about the war." he explains, then looks at me curiously. "Why are you here?"

Now I have to decide whether to lie or not, not knowing how deep this friendship is that he spoke of.

"I'm here to see Quatre." I reply truthfully. "I understand were captured together and I'm hoping that seeing him will trigger my memory of him and my past."

I can see his face in the faint glow of the flashlight, and can see that he's mulling over in his mind what I've told him, so I continue on. "I think the colonies need the both of us to remember why and how we fight." I tell him.

I knew I'd said the right thing when I saw his nod of agreement, he didn't approve of what had been done to his young master. Just then the sound of the door opening startled both of us. Abdul's flashlight and gun went from pointing to the ground to the door. In the light's beam we see Heero, as point, with his gun in hand aimed on the the bearer of the light.

"No, Abdul, Heero, don't!" I whispered loudly and throw myself between them, facing Abdul. The light blinding me once again.

"What's going on?" Abdul asks harshly, turning instantly from friend to soldier.

"We're taking Quatre with us." I tell him.

"I...I can't let you do that." he says aghast, but we all hear the hesitation in his voice.

"Abdul, listen." I entreat him urgently. "We're just going to help him regain his memory, learn the truth, then let him choose." I motion behind me. "That's what they did for me." I tell him. "He may not remember, and he can choose to come back. If he does, we'll let him."

The tall man hesitated, uncertainty written on his face and in his posture. Heero steps out of the door, followed by Trowa with a blanketed figure slung over his shoulder. Wufei brings up the rear.

"Please Abdul." I take a step closer, entreating him. "He's our friend. We'll keep him safe, I promise. It has to be better than taking away his choices and passion, to live in a prefabricated, gilded cage."

The air is still as we wait for the Maguanac to make his decision. I can feel Heero tensing to move. Then to my relief, Abdul nods.

"Very well." he says softly. "Go, and go quickly."

I smile my gratitude then feel my arm firmly clasped as I'm roughly jerked out of the flashlight's beam. Heero is walking fast, dragging me along with his firm grip on my arm.

Things were a blur after that, and I'm not fully aware of how we made it out of there, but shortly after we entered the soon-to-be stolen shuttle, I was given the task of staying with the slumbering blond while the others finagled or forced our way out of the colony. The shuttle was fitted with a luxurious interior, including bedrooms and a small kitchen. Quatre was placed near the center of a large, king-size bed and onto his side. I sit in a chair next to him, anxiously studying the angelic face of my vision in full, alive-and-breathing detail, hardly believing I was seeing the same face that I'd envisioned in my dreams and in my mind for weeks now.

Now that we are safely on board the shuttle and things have quieted down, the surge of adrenaline I'd experienced during the rescue has left me drained. I now feel extremely tired and can't resist the urge to climb up on the soft bed. I lay close to, but not touching, the other boy. Staring at his closed eyes, I mentally will him to open them, somehow believing that my past lay within their depths. I feel the engines thrumming to life and I close my eyes. Oddly I feel safe and secure in the knowledge that the others will see us safely out of L-4. Relief over having Blue Eyes here calms me into slumber.

When I awake after some unknown amount of time, it's with the comfort of arms encircling me. I know without a doubt that it's Heero who has guarded my sleep. I slowly open my eyes to see the slight blond boy before me, still sleeping. Behind him, I see the upturned shoulder of Trowa.

Not being able to resist the impulse, I reach up my hand to touch the closed, delicate lids of the eyes I've seen in my mind. They flutter at my touch and I quickly pull my hand away. Holding my breath expectantly, I see his eye lids slowly open, sluggish from the drugs in his system. My breath catches as his large blue eyes focus on me, on my eyes. He blinks several times, then surprisingly, I feel his hand on my face. He touches it gently, his fingers ghosting over my features until once again our eyes lock. "Remember." we both mouth silently at the same time.

I gasp and throw my hands up to clutch my head as memories and pain burst through it. In my mind I see Quatre and I captured. He had been wounded during the mission, and his injuries impeded our escape and we were captured. During that first night of captivity, we were moved to three different locations and heavily guarded. We finally ended up in what looked like a bare-bones hospital cell. Both of us were stripped, deloused, searched, and put into a hospital gown. I watched intently as a doctor came in and efficiently dealt with Quatre's injuries. We were allowed a day to rest before the nightmare began. They took me first, heavily guarded and cuffed to another room. I futility fought as they lifted me onto a padded examination table and strapped me down. I yelled and cursed at them in frustration as the soldiers backed off and a group of men in white coats approached me. I assumed they were some kind of doctors and watched as one prepared a syringe and injected a serum into my arm.

"We're going to turn you into a nice, sedate, and safe citizen 02." he smiled smugly at me as he pulled the needle out of my arm.

"What are you doing to me? What was that?" I growled out between my gritted teeth, trying to sound tough and not as frightened as I really felt.

"You've just been injected with a new serum that will make you forget who you are and what you've been doing." he replied calmly as if he were discussing the weather. He then bent over me to closely study my eyes, his glasses slipped down the bridge of his nose so that he looked at me over the top rim. He continued on in a manner of instruction in a monotone voice. "This serum affects the part of the brain having to do with memories. It will take some time, but after today, you won't remember what we have said or how you came to be here. By the end of your treatments, you'll be who and what we want you to be." I think the look of horror on my face was evident, but he ignored it and continued. "04, or the Winner heir, as we've been told, will once again be the good little heir his father always wanted. Indeed, he is paying a colony's fortune for this procedure to be performed on his son so that he'll leave the war behind and return to his responsibilities as the heir of the Winner dynasty. You my friend" he smirked at me, "just so happen to be the happy recipient of Mr. Winner's generosity. That, and the fact that he wants to make sure that the procedure is tried on someone else similar to his son's age and size to prove that it is physically harmless, that his boy will be returned unharmed."

"I'm the guinea pig." I conclude sleepily as the drug takes over my body.

At that point, my memory skips forward to the point of waking up, confused and frightened at not remembering what was happening. Quatre tried to comfort me, but he didn't know what they were doing either and I just couldn't remember. They left him alone while his wounds healed, yet took me away day after day for treatment. The memory came of Quatre's realization of what was happening to me, that I was forgetting large pieces of our past, the war, missions, schools, our friends and our camaraderie. We cried together and he told me his suspicions, trying to help me come to terms with my growing fear and loss of self.

We were informed by the doctors that Quatre was well enough for his treatments to begin, that we should say our goodbys as we would be separated in the morning.

That night, as in previous nights, Quatre came to my bed and climbed under the covers with me and held me. At this point, I hardly remembered him or the others. My past was being stripped from me. He cupped my face and spoke to me again of our time together, of our friends and pasts. We stared into each others eyes. "Remember me, Duo." he whispered urgently. "Don't forget my eyes, our cause, our friendship. Remember....remember." I repeated the words back, trying desperately to ingrain his eyes into my soul. I lodged them into my earliest memories, hoping to hide them in the past. Somehow, I think Quatre psychically implanted the image of his eyes in me.

The pain in my head is now almost unbearable, and I dimly think I can hear myself cry out as the memories come washing over me and peel away the layers of impeding blocks. Waves of visual memories of my life are revealed and remembered. I see my friends, battles, death, blood, laughter, warmth, music and dancing. The memories and pain come, some in detail, some glossed over until something sharp stabs into my arm. Slowly, my body and mind begin to relax, the memories slow. The last dream-like vision is of me standing with my gun in my hand, pointing it at Heero who is threatening a girl in a blue dress. Relena. I shot him, not once, but twice, and then dove into the water to retrieve his body, floating face down. It was at that point that my mind let go, accepted the memories it had received, and shut down.

Awareness of my surroundings returned. I was curled up tightly, my forehead resting on my upraised knees and my arms are wrapped around my aching head. I'm trembling, my whole body shakes and my breath is coming in quick hitches and gasps.

"The sedative seems to be taking affect." Trowa's voice states calmly. I feel a warm body encircle me.

"It's okay, Duo. Calm down now. We're here." Heero's voice is wonderfully comforting and I realize with my returned memory how welcome it is. He rubs my back soothingly, and the trembling lessens at his touch. Feeling heavy and lethargic, I slowly and with effort raise my head and force my eyes open. Quatre is still resting peacefully across from me and looks to be asleep again. 

"You okay?" Heero asks, his voice is soft, full of concern and close to my ear. I can see Trowa as he comes into view on Quatre's side of the bed. He smiles at me, but his eyes reveal his worry.

I try to speak, but can't seem to find my voice, so I give a barely perceptible nod.

Strong arms pull me close against a firm chest. "Maybe you should move Quatre so Duo doesn't have another episode." Heero suggests quietly to Trowa.

I reach out my hand to weakly grab hold of my blond friend's arm, letting the others know not to remove him. Somehow knowing he is beside me is reassuring. I know that my returning memories are painful, physically and mentally. If it's going to be as painful for him as it has been for me, Quatre will need all the support and comfort we can give him. I'll be there for him as he was for me when my memories were being taken and I was frightened. Our friendship was strengthened by his love and concern for me when I could hardly remember who he was. I remember it all now, and I'll never forget it again.

With effort, I push myself back and Heero adjusts accordingly, sitting up so that I can fall onto my back and look up at him, into his worried face. Even though he's in soldier mode, I can see the emotion with the depths of his blue eyes. I manage a small smile to reassure him.

"Deathscythe is still better than Wing." I whisper hoarsely. It's been a standing argument I like to bate Heero with, ever since the day he stole parts of my gundam to repair his. That was from the early days when we first joined the conflict and slowly became comrades and friends. 

"You remember." He manages to smile gently at me, and I can see the ease of tension and a trace of relief on his face, the perfect soldier mask starts to crack as my friend emerges from behind it and studies every detail of my face. 

I nod. "From the moment we met on the docks." I tell him through a long yawn.

"I guess that was the pivotal point in your life, when things really got interesting." he smirks, continuing our ongoing teasing.

"Naw," I yawn and close my eyes again, feeling myself being influenced by the sedative and I begin drifting off to sleep. "That was just the beginning, just before the time when you first learned to smile." I tell him sleepily, knowing how my friendship helped ease the Perfect Soldier back once in a while to reveal the boy Heero could still be.

I feel his hand ruffle my hair affectionately. "Baka." he whispers, and I can hear the smile on his face. "Welcome back." 

End

  
  
  
  



	8. Part 6B YAOI

Authors note: Part 6B is the YAOI ending of this story. If this subject matter makes you uncomfortable, please return to part 6A for a non-yaoi ending.

The Eyes Have It

By: Dyna Dee

Part 6b

Warnings: Mild Yaoi

At approximately one-forty five a.m., I find myself standing in the shadows near the back door of the Winner mansion, just outside the kitchen. I have my orders; to stay here and guard the exit for their retreat.

I check my watch, again. It's been seven minutes. Heero estimated it might take six to ten minutes, depending on whether or not Quatre was in the room they suspected he would be, and if their path was clear, no guards or servants keeping watch.

The gun I hold in my hand isn't the some one I'd handled earlier. This gun is larger, a dart gun with a strong sedative that causes an instant reaction once it hits a target. We couldn't risk hurting any of the people Quatre cared for, even though they are responsible for kidnaping him and erasing his memories and mine.

Hearing a slight noise to my right, I melt further into the shadows of the mansion's walls. The sound didn't come from the inside, but from around the corner. Evidently, someone didn't drink his tea tonight.

I press myself against the wall. The flower bushes that border the house are not very big and won't hide me, so I crouch down into a ball next to one and put my head down, hoping to hide my lily-white face. I force myself not to look up as I hear quiet footfalls approaching.

'I am not visible, I am not visible.' I repeat over and over to myself, wishing it to be true.

"Hey there!" a deep voice calls out and I know I'm caught. I instantly spring to my feet, my arms holding out the dart gun, but I freeze as I hear the metal click of a release on a gun behind the bright light that is flashing into my face, blinding me.

"Put it down." I'm commanded by the deep voice. Damn!

There's a moment of silence as I lower my weapon, but only slightly.

"Master Duo?" Whoever is behind the light knows me.

"Who are you?" I ask, not that I'll remember him.

"Abdul." He replies. "Rashid's cousin. Do you remember me?" he asks. 

"Sorry, Abdul." I shake my head. "OZ wiped my memory. I can't remember you because I don't even remember myself." I tell him.

Another moment passes quietly.

"Put your gun down, Master Duo." he says gently. "We are friends and have fought side by side on Earth. There is no need for a weapon among friends." I note a touch of sadness in his voice as he, too, lowers his gun.

I let out the breath I'd been hold, sighing with relief. He lowers the flashlight beam taking the bright light out of my eyes, I can almost see to make out his features. I'm not surprised that they're not familiar

"It's the same with Master Quatre." he says almost despondently. "They took his memory and he doesn't remember the war, the Maguanacs, nor his gundam. His father has forbidden us from saying anything about any aspect of the war." he explains, then looks at me curiously. "Why are you here?"

Now I have to decide whether to lie or not, not knowing how deep this friendship is that he spoke of.

"I'm here to see Quatre." I reply truthfully. "I understand were captured together and I'm hoping that seeing him will trigger my memory of him and my past."

I can see his face in the faint glow of the flashlight, and can see that he's mulling over in his mind what I've told him, so I continue on. "I think the colonies need the both of us to remember why and how we fight." I tell him.

I knew I'd said the right thing when I saw his nod of agreement, he didn't approve of what had been done to his young master. Just then the sound of the door opening startled both of us. Abdul's flashlight and gun went from pointing to the ground to the door. In the light's beam we see Heero, as point, with his gun in hand aimed on the bearer of the light.

"No, Abdul, Heero, don't!" I whispered loudly and throw myself between them, facing Abdul. The light blinding me once again.

"What's going on?" Abdul asks harshly, turning instantly from friend to soldier.

"We're taking Quatre with us." I tell him.

"I...I can't let you do that." he says aghast, but we all hear the hesitation in his voice.

"Abdul, listen." I entreat him urgently. "We're just going to tell him the truth, then let him choose." I motion behind me. "That's what they did for me." I tell him. "He may not remember, and he could can to come back. If he does, we'll let him."

The tall man hesitated, uncertainty written on his face and in his posture. Heero steps out of the door, followed by Trowa with a blanketed figure slung over his shoulder. Wufei brings up the rear.

"Please Abdul." I take a step closer, entreating him. "He's our friend. We'll keep him safe, I promise. It has to be better than taking away his choices and passion, to live in a prefabricated, gilded cage."

The air is still as we wait for the Maguanac to make his decision. I can feel Heero tensing to move. Then to my relief, Abdul nods.

"Very well." he says softly. "Go, and go quickly."

I smile my gratitude then feel my arm firmly clasped and find myself roughly jerked out of the flashlight's beam. Heero is walking fast, dragging me along by his firm grip on my arm.

Our movements after that seemed blurred after that, and I'm not fully aware of how we made it out of there, but shortly after were entering the shuttle. I was given the task of staying with the slumbering blond while the others finagled our way out of the colony. The shuttle was fitted with a luxurious interior, including bedrooms and a small kitchen. Quatre was placed near the center of a large, king-size bed and onto his side. I sit in a chair next to him, anxiously studying the angelic face of my vision in full, alive-and-breathing detail, hardly believing I was seeing the same face that I'd envisioned in my dreams and in my mind for weeks now.

Now that we are safely on board the shuttle and things have quieted down, the surge of adrenaline I'd experienced during the rescue has left me drained. I now feel extremely tired and can't resist the urge to climb up on the soft bed. I lay close to, but not touching, the other boy. Staring at his closed eyes, I mentally will him to open them, somehow believing that my past lay within their depths. I feel the engines thrumming to life and I close my eyes. Oddly I feel safe and secure in the knowledge that the others will see us safely out of L-4. Relief over having Blue Eyes here calms me into slumber.

When I awake after some unknown amount of time, it's with the comfort of arms encircling me. I know without a doubt that it's Heero who has guarded my sleep. I slowly open my eyes to see the slight blond boy before me, still sleeping. Behind him, I see the upturned shoulder of Trowa, his hand is resting in a possessive manner on Blue Eye's waist.

Not being able to resist the impulse, I reach my hand up to touch the closed, delicate lids of the eyes I've seen in my mind. They flutter at my touch and I quickly pull my hand away. Holding my breath expectantly, I see his eye lids slowly open, sluggish from the drugs in his system. My breath catches as his large blue eyes focus on me, on my eyes. He blinks several times, then surprisingly, I feel his hand on my face. He touches it gently, his fingers ghosting over my features until once again our eyes lock. "Remember." we both mouth silently at the same time.

I gasp and throw my hands up to clutch my head as memories and pain burst through it. In my mind I see Quatre and I captured. He had been wounded during the mission, and his injuries impeded our escape, and we were captured. During that first night of captivity, we were moved to three different locations and heavily guarded. We finally ended up in what looked like a bare-bones hospital cell. Both of us were stripped, deloused, searched, and put into a hospital gown. I watched intently as a doctor came in and efficiently dealt with Quatre's injuries. We were allowed a day to rest before the nightmare began. They took me first, heavily guarded and cuffed to another room. I futility fought as they lifted me onto a padded examination table and strapped me down. I yelled and cursed at them in frustration as the soldiers backed off and a group of men in white coats approached me. I assumed they were some kind of doctors and watched as one prepared a syringe and injected a serum into my arm.

"We're going to turn you into a nice, sedate, and safe citizen 02." he smiled smugly at me as he pulled the needle out of my arm.

"What are you doing to me? What was that?" I growled out between my gritted teeth.

"You've just been injected with a new serum that will make you forget who you are and what you've been doing." he replied calmly as if he were discussing the weather. He then bent over, coming closer to me to study my eyes, his glasses slipped down the bridge of his nose so that he looked at me over the top rim. He continued on in a manner of instruction in a monotone voice. "This serum affects the part of the brain having to do with memories. It will take some time, but after today, you won't remember what we have said or how you came to be here. By the end of your treatments, you'll be who and what we want you to be." I think the look of horror on my face was evident, but he ignored it and continued. "04, or the Winner heir as we've been told, will be the good little heir his father always wanted. Indeed, he is paying a colony's fortune for this procedure to be performed on his son so that he'll leave the war behind and return to his responsibilities as the heir of the Winner dynasty. You my friend" he smirked at me, "just so happen to be the happy recipient of Mr. Winner's generosity. That, and the fact that he wants to make sure that the procedure is tried on someone else similar to his son's age and size to prove that it is physically harmless, that his boy will be returned unharmed."

"I'm the guinea pig." I conclude sleepily as the drug takes over my body.

At that point, my memory skips forward to the point of waking up, confused and frightened at not remembering what was happening. Quatre tried to comfort me, but he didn't know what they were doing either and I just couldn't remember. They left him alone while his wounds healed, yet took me day after day for treatment. The memory came of Quatre's realization of what was happening to me, that I was forgetting large pieces of our past, the war, mission, schools, our friends, our camaraderie, and most importantly, the one person I needed more than air itself. We cried together and he told me his suspicions, trying to help me come to terms with my growing fear and loss of self.

We were informed by the doctors that Quatre was well enough for his treatments to begin, that we should say our goodbys as we would be separated in the morning.

That night, as in previous nights, Quatre came to my bed and climbed under the covers with me and held me close. At this point, I hardly remembered him or the others. My past was being stripped from me. He cupped my face and spoke to me again of our time together, of our friends and pasts. He whispered to me of my great love for Heero, and promised me that he would come for us. We stared into each others eyes. "Remember me, Duo." he whispered urgently. "Don't forget my eyes, our cause, our friendship. Remember....remember." I repeated the words back, trying desperately to ingrain his eyes into my soul. I lodged them into my earliest memories, hoping to hide them in the past. Somehow, I think Quatre psychically implanted the image of his eyes in me.

The pain in my head is now almost unbearable, and I dimly think I can hear myself cry out as the memories come washing over me and peel away the layers of impeding blocks. Waves of visual memories of my life are revealed and remembered. I see my friends, battles, death, blood, laughter, warmth, music and dancing. I see Heero and I as we struggled with our feelings for each other, of our lips crushed against each other as well as our bodies pressed together in a lover's embrace. The memories and pain come, some in detail, some glossed over until something sharp stabs into my arm. Slowly my body and mind begin to relax, the memories slow. The last dream-like vision is of me standing with my gun in my hand, pointing it at Heero who is threatening a girl in a blue dress. Relena. I shot him, not once, but twice, and then dove into the water to retrieve his body, floating face down. It was at that point that my mind let go, accepted the memories it had received, and shut down.

Awareness of my surroundings returned. I was curled up tightly, my forehead resting on my upraised knees and my arms are wrapped around my aching head. I'm trembling, my whole body shakes and by breath is coming in quick hitches and gasps.

"The sedative seems to be taking affect." Trowa's voice states calmly. I feel a warm body encircle me.

"It's okay, Duo. Calm down now. We're here." Heero's voice is wonderfully comforting and I realize with my returned memory just how welcome it is. He rubs my back soothingly, and the trembling lessens at his touch. Feeling heavy and lethargic, I slowly and with effort raise my head and force my eyes open. Quatre is still resting peacefully across from me and looks to be asleep again. 

"You okay?" Heero asks, his voice is soft, full of concern and close to my ear. I can see Trowa as he comes into view on Quatre's side of the bed. He smiles at me, but his eyes reveal his worry.

I try to speak, but can't seem to find my voice, so I give a barely perceptible nod.

Strong arms pull me close against a firm chest. "Maybe you should move Quatre so Duo doesn't have another episode." Heero suggests quietly to Trowa.

I reach out my hand to weakly grab hold of my blond friend's arm, letting the others know not to move him. Somehow knowing he is beside me is reassuring. I know that my returning memories are painful, physically and mentally. If it's going to be as painful for him as it has been for me, Quatre will need all the support and comfort we can give him. I'll be there for him, as he was for me when my memories were being taken and I was frightened. Our friendship was strengthened by his love and concern for me when I could hardly remember who he was. I remember it all now, and I'll never forget it again.

With no small effort, I push myself back and Heero adjusts accordingly, sitting up so that I can fall onto my back and look up at him, into his worried face, his anxious eyes. I can now read the emotions that had confused or eluded me while my memory was gone. I can see he is in soldier mode, dampening his emotions, waiting to analyze and adjust to the situation as it continues to change. Reaching my hand up, I brush the dark brown hair from his eyes, and recognize a glimmer of hope flash in them. The moisture in my own eyes thickens and he becomes blurred above me as I realize what I almost lost.

"Koi." I whisper emotionally.

If I live to be one hundred and fifty years old, I will never forget the transformation I see happen on Hero's face. It's instantaneous and dramatic as the barriers that he'd erected around his emotions, from the moment I laid eyes on him in my dorm room in Lyon, lowers completely and the perfect soldier disappears. Relief, love, and joy radiate from his smile and his beautiful eyes.

He slowly lowers his chest to fit his body closely against mine, making me feel protected and safe, and then he gently kisses me, his lips questing across mine with such gentleness that I feel compelled to reach up with trembling hands and pull him down closer, forcing him to kiss me harder, deeper, allowing my longing and passion for him to be communicated by my own desperate return of his kiss. As we break to catch a breath, his turns his face so that his cheek is against mine, bringing his lips to my ear as he begins to whisper a soft stream of words, held back from the moment he'd found me, that were meant for me alone to hear, not Michel, the stranger he had found, but me, Duo. Heero's Duo. And slowly, gently, I'm eased into the sleepy, peaceful realm that his words of love and reassurance bring me. I drift into sleep, to dream once more. Only this time, my dreams are not of eyes the color of the Mediterranean, but eyes the color of the night sky just after sunset, the cobalt blue eyes that give my life purpose and meaning, the eyes belonging to my Heero, my love.

End


End file.
